Emma: Momma, I hut my hand in da baffroom.
Me: You did? Lemme see…
Me: Yeah, you did. What happened?
Emma: *blank stare*
I had a motherly premonition and Hub’s razor sitting on the bathroom counter flashed in my mind.
Me: EMMA… were you playing with Daddy’s razor?
Emma: *eyes get wider and she frowned*
My mom: What in the world were you shaving, honey?
Emma: Ummmm… my hand.
Whaaaaaaaat? I got nuthin’. No idea why.
(Just to save you an e-mail, we had a very serious and lengthy discussion about why we don’t shave our hands. Or play with razors. I was Scary Mommy.)