House Wife Hazards: 4 Ways I Nearly Died at Home‏

housewife hazardsWith all the dangerous jobs out there, you’d never think being a stay at home mom and housewife was one of them—unless you count the threat to your sanity, but somehow in the 6 years since my first child was born, I’ve managed to severely wound and/or nearly escape death several times. I guess they aren’t kidding when they say more accidents happen at home than anywhere else.

Like this one time, I was doing dishes, and there was a steak knife next to the sink. I turned on the garbage disposal to grind up some mystery leftovers that had gone to tinfoil land and it vibrated the sink enough the knife fell in. The handle hit the disposal blades and the knife launched out, up, and literally hit my hair as it flew past to the floor. It was some Final Destination shit. The mess they’d have found me in flashed before my eyes.

Another time, I was navigating the toy mine field in the living room and failed my perception roll, totally stepped on an old-school army car. It was made of metal so it actually sliced my foot open so bad I should have gotten stitches—but duct tape fixes everything and aint nobody got time for the ER.

That’s not the first time toys have plotted my death either. Once, trying to carry a way-too-full basket of laundry down the stairs, I caught a Lego with the ball of my foot. It hurt like hell, but it also caused me to nearly fall down the stairs and be sealed in a tomb of dirty laundry. I pulled a muscle in my pelvis catching my balance, which is just what I wanted at 8 months pregnant.

Not even cooking dinner is safe. The other day I tried to be all prepared and timely and start dinner before I started the stuff that probably would have made dinner late, and apparently my well-used Crockpot shit the bed, because the moment I plugged it in it shot sparks, tripped the breaker, and shocked the shit out of me. There’s still a burn in the counter, but hey, a well-timed electrocution works better than coffee—well, when you’re allergic to caffeine.

My point is being a housewife isn’t all bon-bons and soap poppers, more like Netflix, hard work, and real hazards. I consider chocolate hazard pay.

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