You wanna know how I know I’m a good mom? The best maybe?
Because this morning, I made my child a piece of toast with almond butter in a complete pre-8am haze, same as many mornings before. And when he was finished the entire piece of toast, I trumpetted, “Good job, Abe! You ate an entire piece of peanutbutter toast!”
That would be when my heart stopped beating. Because anyone who knows anything about anything ever in the world knows that you don’t give a child PEANUT BUTTER before the age of TWO. How old is Abe? Come on, who’s been paying attention?? HE’S ONE.
ONE YEAR OLD.
AND I FED HIM ENOUGH PEANUT BUTTER TO KILL AN ENTIRE SCHOOL FULL OF PEANUT-ALLERGIC-KIDS IN CHINA. OR ANY OTHER COUNTRY FOR THAT MATTER.
Could it be true? I peeked into the kitchen to see an open jar of peanut butter, a butter knife, and a small, black ribbon with the words, “Worst. Mother. Ever.” on the counter. I immediately grabbed Abraham and started wiping him down (because that’s proven to ward off anaphylactic shock) and asking him, “Can you feel your tongue? Is it bigger than before? Can you breathe? Is your mouth itchy?” Of course, this frantic sponge bath totally freaked him out and caused him to cry loud and hard. In turn, this convinced me he was dying of peanuts and it was my fault. I sat on the floor and held him for 17 hours before I was certain letting him go wouldn’t require a trip to the ER.
So, you wanna know how I’m a good mom? I found out my kid isn’t allergic to peanuts when he was only a year old. 100% sooner than normal parents. You’re welcome, Abe.