Terrible confession

Not just for funsies

Way back when I was a girl, one of my jobs was to take the garbage bag out to the wheelie bin that would sit behind the shed until bin day. We lived in Northern NSW, where sugar cane is a big industry. And with sugar cane comes cane toads.

Cane toads were prolific in our area, even in suburban back yards such as ours. Invariably, I would have to take the garbage bag out at night, walking across the grassy yard using the lights from the house as my guide in the darkness.

I did this in a sort of hop-skip-try-to-float-above-the-ground way as the worst feeling in the world was accidentally stepping on a cane toad. Or so I thought.

I was wrong.

Not long ago … I stepped on my baby.

That right there was definitely the worst feeling in the world.

“How on earth could you step on your baby?” I hear you cry.  As simply as this:

I had her on the floor on a blanket, having a stretch out and enjoying time NOT in my arms (or maybe that was me enjoying the time).  I got up to get a drink and came back and stepped over her … almost.

I was wearing some seriously comfy floppy pants. Unfortunately they’re a little long for my stubby soccer-player legs. The end of one pant leg slipped under my left foot and tripped me in such a way as to interfere with the planned trajectory of my right foot, shortening the arc considerably and re-configuring the landing site to close proximity to darling Little Miss’s left ankle.  In other words, I tripped on the stupid-arse pants and planted some of my foot on hers.

The yell she let out was magnificent.

I scooped up the poor little monkey and hugged her close, sobbing “sorrysorrysorry”.  She settled much faster than I did  and I spent at least an hour afterwards hugging her and repeatedly checking her little foot to make sure I hadn’t completely squished it.

Happy to say she’s fine – although if there’s any issues with it as a soccer player in later life,  you are all sworn to secrecy.

It’s only now I realise the dual purpose of those mats with the mobiles built over the top. Those foam pipes are not just for her amusement but also for protection against clumsy oaf mothers.

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