I slapped each one of my children once, a total shock to me!
My eight-month old baby girl crawled on the kitchen floor while I stood at the sink washing dishes. I felt her tiny hands as she pulled up on the back of my leg. I was enjoying the feel of their sweet softness as I dried my hands to pick her up. Before I got turned around, I felt the painful sting of a wasp on the back of my leg. Reflexively, I slapped at it. My baby screamed out! The sting I’d felt was her sharp new teeth piercing my tender flesh. I was horrified to released I’d slapped her. I can still hear her heartbreaking screams when I recall that moment. I’ve never been so devastated, before or since, especially when she pulled away as I tried to comfort her.
I worked as a dialysis nurse, taking regular call. One night, about eight-thirty, I got called in. I told Bud and the kids goodbye and gathered my things on the way to the car. As I turned the key, a psychotic screamer grabbed me from behind. The knuckles of my right hand connected with teeth. My ten-year-old son howled and grabbed his bleeding mouth. He’d slipped out ahead of me and hidden in the back seat, thinking how much fun it would be to scare me. We both got a big surprise!