What I failed to mention on our walk down to Electric Avenue was the role Mom Logic (almost) played. Whereas my husband and friend felt they could adequately asses the extent of the damage sustained simply by my daughter's behavior, I knew there was only one way to truly know the degree of trauma she had experienced: I, too, was going to have to suck on the laptop charger. While on the phone with hubby, holding baby in one arm and the laptop cord in the other, my voice deepened.
"Should I lick this thing and see how bad it shocked her?"
"What? No!"
"It's the only way to know."
"It shocked her. There is no reason that you BOTH have to go through that."
"But I need to know how bad it hurt her, and there's only one way to do that."
"Please don't suck on the laptop cord."
I sat baby down and gravely looked down the barrel of a soggy, angry power cord.
"Are you there?" A deep sigh echoed through the phone. "Is the laptop cord in your mouth right now?"
No, it was not. But I'm not going to lie, folks, it still makes complete sense to me. If you're so sure it wasn't that bad, then go ahead buddy, man up and take a swig.
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