Throughout the foster licensing process, I found some of the endless preparatory tasks fairly tedious, but I didn’t really mind any of them. Except one—child-proofing the house.
Having installed over sixty outlet covers throughout my house, I now risk electrocution daily as I battle to pry them off to plug in a fan or a toaster. But worst of all is the cabinet where I must keep all of my cleaning supplies, including dish washing soap and laundry detergent. It is high up, not quite big enough, and has a temperamental lock that took two hours to install.
Last night, I opened it up to get out my laundry detergent. As I lifted down the box of Tide, a small but heavy tub of wall spackle came flying through the air and straight into my face. It hit my right cheekbone hard, mangling my glasses and unleashing a medley of curse words that proved my sanctification has not progressed as far as I had thought.
Somehow, making my home safe for children has actually made it more dangerous for me. There’s probably a lesson in that… =)
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