Tuesday, November 25, 2008

Burn Belly...Burn

I have never been renowned for my judgment - I can admit that. I had hoped and feared alike that is was a genetic flaw, but I could only look back at my parents for confirmation. Until now.

This weekend Cohen was with her Grammy having pictures taken for the holiday while Dan and I enjoyed some much needed personal time. We rented a few goofy movies, drove all over town in search of the cheeseburger I was craving, and settled into the couch to watch "Get Smart". Ironic. I had just boiled the water for a cup of Chamomille Tea when we decided to let the puppy in the house because this is something we never do when Cohen is home.

Mostly he is banished to the kitchen, kennel, or backyard because he is a 75 lb. spaz, but we let our emotion get the best of us and thought we would give him the benefit of the doubt. I let him on the couch. Lifted my tea to cool it. He jumped. I spilled the tea down my side. Screamed. Ran to the bathroom and peeled myself out of my clothes.

Because of where the burn was I had to get everything off but my bra, which meant there was no way I was letting Dan into the bathroom to see me. This has not been discussed much this pregnancy, but I am 8 months pregnant - and even though I no longer have any desire for sex at this point in my pregnancy I do still value the idea of Dan finding me attractive. Were he to really look at the Freddy Krueger-esque stretch marks at their full expansion down my belly he might not ever shake the image. And even I haven't seen my ass in 5 months, I certainly don't need anyone else back there making a reality out of what I pretend isn't happening to my butt and thighs.

While my lady friends might understand where I am coming from, you must also imagine what it was like for Dan standing outside the door listening to me gasping and crying and not knowing what had happened yet. Finally I relented and let him help me. I asked him to look up treatment for a 2nd degree burn, as the top layer of skin on a half dollar sized portion on my stomach had bubbles and disappeared. He did his research and went to the pharmacy to buy me gauze and medical tape. The tape was the cheap stuff, and as you can see from the photo we had to use some Dora band-aids. Damn that little Explorer, she saved the day again.

The next day I woke up feeling better and the burn is not as bad as I thought it was going to be. Still, it was such a stupid thing to do to let the dog up when I was drinking hot tea. All I could imagine was what if Cohen had been home. Had been seated where she always is - tucked under my arm. What if I had spilled the tea on her? But I didn't. And I wouldn' t have let the dog in had she been home. So, Dan convinced me to just feel the pain of the burn and not the pain of the potential for something that never happened and never would have happened.

The Bandage Job We Did That Night
So Dramatic.

The Remaining Small but Painful Burns
Less Dramatic.
(Dan says this looks like someone's butt but with Herpes)

And finally, the testiment to my poor judgment being genetic. As I said in the beginning of the blog, until today I could only look back for reasons why I am the way I am. But this morning Cohen dressed herself for the first time and I can see so clearly that poor decision making is as natural to us as brown hair and goofy feet. All we can do now is guide her and rely on Dan for our first aid care, internet research and let's face it... raising her bail.


Pacing the Panic Room said...

Wow. there is a strict no tie-dye policy over here at this house which helps out a bunch. poor kid never had a chance :)

Sorry about the burn. How was that cheeseburger and lame movies though?

did you burn the puppy back so it would learn fear?

Speaking of fear. That little smile Cohen is sporting is pretty spooky. Let me give you some free advice. NEVER on a whim let her watch any of the Problem Child films. No matter how big your John Ritter itch needs to be scratched.

I married ryan marshall said...

Just so you know, I like tie dye.

Also Ryan and Kevin are in the other room eating dinner. Ryan is getting increasingly less patient with Kevin wiping food all over his face. All I hear coming from the other room is.
Don't touch your face, Don't touch your face, Don't touch your face, Don't touch your face, Don't touch your face, Don't touch your face, Don't touch your face, Don't touch your face, Don't touch your face, Don't touch your face, DON"T TOUCH YOUR FACE BUDDY!

Knarf Talaf said...

Sorry to hear Lawton. Hope your butt herpes heal quickly. Boxers are always so tragically excitable. Doggy valium sounds like a needed staple in your house. ;~)

Lori said...

sorry about the burns!! You sound just like me - I worry about all kinds of things that will probably never happen...

Oh, and I know it took some courage to post those photos... but so glad to see someone else I know has strech marks!

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