
Someone asshole baby bit my beautiful baby.
When one of the daycare teachers showed me the bite today when I picked up Kit, my stomach sank.
This is what I wanted to say: “So when do we fill out the police report?”
This is what I actually said: “So, what do I do? No one has ever bitten a child of mine before.”
No one has ever bitten a child of mine before. Basically, I sounded snobbish and uncool all at the same time. My basic M.O. in life.
For those of you who want to know, there isn’t really much to do. You apply Neosporin while feeling like shit, basically.
(My beautiful baby! Bitten! And I wasn’t there to protect her or comfort her! I wanted to wail and clutch her to my breast and do other Victorian mourning shit. Instead, I put on a brave face and got a copy of their “incident report” while I shoved her dirty bottles in my bag to wash later.)
My friend Courtney, who has one kid who was a biter and one kid who has been bitten, says the mom of the biter always feels worse.
I’m not so sure.
I kind of want to send the mom of the biter this photo? Just so she can share in my misery? Just a little?
I know kids bite. I know it happens. I’m 100% sure the teachers responded appropriately and I feel no qualms about sending her back.
It’s just … my poor baby!
At least wait until she has teeth, other baby! Make it a fair fight. She barely knows how to use her thumbs!
Oh poor baby. I would probably start crying myself.
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