Yesterday evening, Woman asked me to cut Sprocket's nails. Her fingers are tiny, nails tinier.
But oh, how they scratch... when she swipes her cheeks or my face, they gouge and every other morning we discover the thin and bloody lines she has inflicted upon herself the previous night.
So it seemed a perfectly reasonable thing to do on a Monday evening after work... Daddy would neatly cut Sprocket's nails and file them for safety. Instead of the usual baby scissors that Woman uses, I got my nail clippers and wielded them with aplomb, despite a telling 'take care' look from She-Who-Is-Baby-Expert.
Clip, clip and one nail was done
Clip, clip and the next one was done.
Clip, clip and I managed to lop off a chunk of baby skin... Sprocket broke into a loud wail and a drop of blood popped up and stained her white baby dress.Blood and tiny tears flowed freely as Woman and I stood stricken with terror... to inflict a wound on this innocent little lamb of a sprocket and to see her scream in agony was not in The Plan and there I was, having done exactly that.
Woman immediately took charge, soothed Sprocket down, while I hunted around with bated breath for a little band-aid and we managed to get that on. Woman then wrapped up her hand in a glove so that she wouldnt suck on the bandage at night... oh the terror of it all.
Man retreated into a frustrated desperate stormcloud of a mood and had to put up with the agony of hearing whimpers through the night as Sprocket tried to figure out how to suck her hand as she usually does but couldn't.
That has been ManSNAFU #1.
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