In Praise of Beans and Babies

This post is dedicated to my brother Peter, whose splendid wife Sarah gushes supremely. (She also has a darn tootin' great blog, so become a loyal reader.) When he was younger, Pete stuffed a bean up his nose. My parents weren't aware of this until it began to swell with heat and nasal moisture, thus making it nearly impossible to extract. My parents are both registered nurses, but even their combined and admittedly mighty efforts with a tweezer proved insufficient, and they had to seek higher medical help in order to free the bean.

I offer this post for two reasons.



One. Pete and Sarah recently added another precious boy to their beautiful family, and in all the hullabaloo, I neglected to give him a welcome post. Dear Simeon Shepherd, welcome! We can't wait to meet you in person! You've been blessed to enter a family who will, with God's grace, raise you in truth and love, and we rejoice to see a four-fold cord grown yet stronger with a fifth member.

Two. I thought of Pete and his family today, as well as the neglected welcome, with a timely reminder. This afternoon, Susannah suddenly began a loud caterwauling that signaled trouble. I peeked behind the armchair to see her bleeding profusely from one nostril, at which point Annika informed me that Susannah had stuffed a cheerio up her nose. With the blood, I could barely see the edge of the cheerio, but I saw enough to ensure that, yes, she had indeed. I took her upstairs (with continued caterwauling) and sat her down so that I could use my weapon of choice. You guessed it-- tweezers. I figured that even if I accidentally pushed it into the depths, cheerios are less troublesome than uncooked beans, and instead of stubbornly swelling, it would disintegrate in the rush of blood.

Don't worry. The tweezers worked.

Welcome again, Simeon Shepherd. We love you, your mother, your brothers, and we even love your bean-stuffing Daddy in whose footsteps Susannah follows.