"Calling Dr. Ben... Calling Dr. Ben. Please report to the Dining Room Immediately..."

So approximately 32 minutes after Sydney left for a "get away weekend" (while leaving the kids under my supervision) and about 5 minutes after I finished feeding the kids, we ran into our first catastrophe. Prompted by a blood curdling scream, I rushed into the dining room to find Leah (1 & 1/2 years old) standing on a chair screaming. At this point, I am thinking, hmmm... did she pinch her finger... is she stuck...WHAT? Then I see her cram her finger up her nose... which leads me to pull her finger out of her nose and look... sure enough: A bead. So as I hold onto her, I go to the kitchen preparing myself for surgery. Then I think: "Toothpicks... that'll do it." As I was lying her on the living room floor... ready to perform an emergency "beadectomy," the bead worked its way out on its own. Fortunate little girl. Ol' Doc. Ben WOULD have taken care of you... Might have had to amputate something... with a tooth pick... but I would have taken care of you.

6 hours down... rest of the weekend to go. I am a good Dad... really I am... Aren't I?