Watch Out For Things That Go Bump In the Night

The latest time-when-I-wanted-to-scold-my-kids-but-could-barely-keep-from-laughing happened just tonight.

Zak and I were in the family room watching Mythbusters, while Danelle and Taryn had gone upstairs to watch So You Think You Can Dance. At some point Taryn came down to get herself a snack, and I vaguely remember keeping half an eye on her while she got a plastic knife from the kitchen drawer, strawberries from the refrigerator and a small plate. She sat on the couch and cut the tops off the strawberries while Zak and I watched Adam and Jamie blow up steaks, then went back to the kitchen before heading upstairs again.

We got done with Mythbusters around 8:30 and the sun had by now set, but there was still a little bit of ambient light. So I didn't turn on the kitchen light as I went to put Zak's water cup in the sink, and WHAM. I smashed my broken wrist right into our silverware drawer, which Taryn apparently never closed after getting her knife.

It hurt, but not like I re-injured it or something. It was more annoying than anything. So I went upstairs, put on a stern face, waggled a finger disapprovingly at Taryn and said, "SOMEBODY left the kitchen drawer open after they got their knife to cut their strawberries. And I banged my broken wrist right into it!" I even brandished said wrist at her for emphasis, as if to remind her of its existence.

Taryn frowned a little, cocked her head to the side and replied, "But daddy -- you shouldn't have banged your broken arm into it. You should have banged your OTHER arm."

Impeccable logic, as we often get from our little pragmatists. I suppose I should just be happy that Taryn goes for fresh fruit when she wants a snack.