Safety First

Big V says he wants to move to the country so we can have dirt bikes and shoot things. I grew up in the country and know that these things can be serious. Serious fun and serious deadly. So I told him something along the lines of you know how some men just ooze safety? Like they'd be the dad taking their kids to Hunter Safety class and impressing upon their children that guns are never, ever to be taken lightly? Yeah, you're so not that guy.

To which he was greatly offended, but then I reminded him about the time when I was mega pregnant, sitting on our front steps of our house as he test drove a motorcycle around the block and he came whipping by doing a wheelie. He giggled like a schoolgirl and I said this is why I don't think you ooze safety.

And then he got even more offended and huffed and puffed saying he was too safe.

So, ten minutes later I go out to the garage where he's cleaning out the back of his pick-up truck and he's got 18-month old Cletus the Used to be Fetus sitting nicely on the edge of the tailgate. Playing with a utility knife. With the blade exposed. And I screamed. And he quickly noticed the baby playing with the deadly weapon and snatched it out of his tiny fingers and yelled, "This doesn't count!"

But I think it totally does.