Thursday, August 1, 2013

sequin seeking

Once upon a time, my youngest daughter was a dimpled, crawling baby, her older sister a fridge door artist.
It was in the opening and closing of that fridge door/art gallery that a drama (or trauma) was innocently set in motion.
One of the works of art had sequins attached in the haphazard fashion of preschool artists and a sequin had fallen unnoticed to the floor.
Unnoticed by me but not the baby.
Crawling babies are a sort of early form of vacuum cleaner.
All of this was completely unnoticed by me; the shedding artwork, the sequin seeking baby.
But when it became apparent that something was amiss in the babies mouth and a glimpse of glittery gold appeared as a half moon behind her tiny front teeth, I hastened with her to the dentist.
Poor Dr. Hegedus.
Over the din and amidst the chaos, he was able to get his tiny little dental tool into the babies mouth.
He flicked the offending sequin out but another inexplicably appeared in its place.
He flicked that one out too.
Another sequin glinted in the light.
He flicked that out as well.
And another.
The 500 Hats of Bartholomew Cubbins came to mind.
The last sequin was finally banished.
Who do you suppose recovered the quickest?
The baby or Dr. Hegedus or me?

No comments: