The other day at the Job I had occasion to use my mad first aid skillz. During nap, F (a particularly ditzy blonde five years of age) pulled her metal ring off her finger and put it in her mouth and then promptly swallowed it. She began making choking noises. I rushed over and asked if she was okay, but she didn't make a sound. I did a sort of half-hearted Heimlich, and on the first abdominal thrust, her ring fell out of her mouth, accompanied by a bit of bile. She was shaken but otherwise okay.
Later, after we'd had a few serious talks about being safe with little decorative bits of metal, F said to me earnestly, "Why don't you make a sign saying 'Don't put things in your mouth that aren't food?'"
I said, "Well, I would, but it wouldn't do much good, since you can't read."
***
Today was "Mixed-up clothing day" at the Job, a sort of half-assed morale booster, I guess. I wore a couple of conflicting colors, but no one seemed to think that was very "mixed up;" they meant more along the lines of wearing both plaids and stripes, I guess. One kid said to me, "Your clothes aren't very mixed up, but your hair is."
I hadn't done anything special to my hair; I'm just kind of perpetually tousled.
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