Here's another piece of kindling for you paranoid parents: Don't ever go to a playground by yourself! What if you accidentally run into a metal play structure bar while trying to retrieve your toddler from a frighteningly lofty play deck, and knock yourself out? What will happen to your unattended children, especially if they are not really old enough to play on such tall play equipment, and the playground--though completely fenced--has a gate that opens near a busy urban intersection? And your autistic five-year-old was already running for that gate when you whacked yourself?
It has now been several days since I did not pass out but still head-butted that bar hard enough to see cartoon stars whirling about my head. At the time, and after both children were safely retrieved, I burst into tears (stupid fucking stress!). Thankfully, those tears were quickly replaced by manic cackles when I realized that both Leelo and Mali had stench bombs in their drawers and that I only had one clean diaper between them. Leelo wore the (Mali) diaper while Mali went commando, sitting on a carseat throne several napkins deep. They made it all the way back from The City with no accidents. Iz, whom we retrieved from Doula/Stylist A's salon on our way from the playground to the car (she now sports an "India Opal" bob) never even realized that her mom lost several critical marbles that afternoon.
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