Molten oatmeal

This morning the kids woke up and started getting breakfast on their own, as they've been trained to do. They've all been using the microwave since they were three or four. And, I mean, sure...sometimes things end up a little bit flame-y...but mostly the fact that they can fend for themselves (usually) makes my life a whole lot easier. 

So I had just come down to the dining room and was checking on Alexander who—very oddly—had not come to me first thing in the morning and was still in his pyjamas and nighttime diaper, a clear indication that he had not gone potty. When there was a blood-curdling scream from the kitchen.

Everyone ran there in a hurry and tried to figure out what had happened to Zoë. 

Oatmeal was...everywhere...and Zoë was curled up on the floor screaming and crying.

"Did her oatmeal explode?" Rachel wondered out loud and, like, honestly, given the oatmeal crime scene we were witnessing, that was a pretty solid guess.

"IT DIDN'T EXPLODE!!!" Zoë screamed.

"Is your thumb hurt?" I asked, noticing that she was cradling her hand. 

"YES!" she screamed, showing me her thumb. It was bright red and had obviously been burned. 

"Okay! Let's get it under some cold water," I said, heaving her off the ground and carrying her to the sink. "What happened? Did you stick your thumb into the oatmeal when you tried to get it out of the microwave?"

"I DIDN'T STICK MY THUMB IN!" she screamed. 

"Okay. You didn't stick your thumb in. Got it."

We never got a story out of her, but I ran her hand (which had obviously been plunged into molten oatmeal) under the tap and rinsed off her oatmeal-covered toesies while I was at it. She was still shaking and crying and couldn't communicate but finally let me know that she wanted to be put down. So I put her down and she ripped off her pyjama bottoms and wailed, "MY LEGSSSSSSSSS!"

The poor thing had—yes, Zoë—stuck her thumb into the bowl as she was getting it out of the microwave and, in shock from how hot the contents was, dropped it, spilling scalding-hot oatmeal down her legs. Well, one of her legs. Lucky for her. 

So we got a wet cloth and spent an hour watching My Little Pony and turning the cloth over and over to let the cool side soothe her burn (while keeping her thumb submerged in a fresh supply of cold water) and then she felt much better.

The oatmeal had been a little on the runny side (she'd spilled a significant amount of oatmeal when she opened the package (instant oatmeal, obviously) but she had still put in "enough" water) so it was a very sloshy bowl of oatmeal and that stuff is super hot when it first comes out of the microwave. I'm so glad she wasn't burned worse!

Her thumb has a few leftover red marks and her thigh has a few more leftover red marks, but otherwise she's fine. No blistering or anything. 

When I was a young teenager my gymnastics coach had a baby and I would often babysit for her. I just adored little Madeline! Anyway, they lived in a little house in downtown Calgary that had a very narrow galley kitchen and one day Darlene, my coach, was making some play dough with Madeline. They'd put a pot of water on the stove to boil and somehow Madeline reached up to grab it and doused herself with boiling water.

Guys! I am cringing just thinking about this. 

She was wearing nothing but a diaper. And it more or less melted her skin off. She had to get skin grafts and was in bandages for months. And it was the saddest thing.

And I've always been a teensy bit afraid of making play dough ever since, which...is ridiculous...because I boil water for a billion other things. But I still prefer to make play dough recipes that do not call for boiling water.

Guys. Her burns were so bad. 

So, I'm just glad that Zoë only suffered some minor first-degree burns.