Parent Fail

'specially not for this guy:

We have a set of knives. Five of them. Big knife. Little knife. Medium knife. Bread Knife and Horror Movie knife (it's huge and I'm afraid to use it, because my fingers aren't made of titanium and also it gives me the willies) Which I'm sure you'll agree is fascinating. We have knives. You know who shouldn't have knives?
Babies.

So, I was in the kitchen making lunch, The Bear was in there trying to hustle cookies out of me.
"COOOOk". He said and hopped from one foot to another.
"COOKCOOKCOOKCOOK" he pointed at the cupboard where the cookies live. (In case I had forgotten, on account of how he thinks I'm a stupid)
"No cookies 'til after lunch Bear" See, I can be responsible.
Hop hop wave hop.
"Cook?"
I shook my head. Teddy mumbled "Cook" under his breath then reached up and scooted his chubby little paw along the counter, grabbing the first thing that he reached. Which just happened to be Big Knife.

He probably had hold of it for all of 0.6 of a second before I ripped it from his grasp, making the kind of noise only dogs can hear.
A split second was enough, enough to make me want to barf a bit and to indelibly sear the image of my tooled up toddler onto my brain. I needed a sit down and a cup of tea.

Lesson learned, put the knives where Teddy can't reach them. Which really, who doesn't know that?
Where was I going with this? Oh wait I remember, to Parent Fail, where I can feel better about my own hideous lapses in judgement by judging others. Swing by if you're looking to feel a little lousier about the world.