I walked by a dime on the floor this morning and said to myself, “I should pick that up”, but I was in a hurry and didn’t listen to that voice in my head. A little later, I heard Ella coughing and went to check on her. I found her walking out of my room in obvious respiratory distress. I beat on her back a few times and then she started crying, not understanding why I was hitting her. I’ve never been so happy to hear my child cry. When I asked her what she swallowed, she replied, “muunneeey”, and I knew it was that dang dime. Off to the doctor’s office we went. No x-ray, but I have to check her poop until I find the dime. This evening, Ella was telling Tom about her day and pointed to the spot on the floor where she found the “muuunneeey”.
I’m off to dig through poop. It’s a glamorous life.
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