The intent was to have a quiet day. The kids and I were in sweats, lounging in our bed watching Diego, reading books and folding laundry. JP wandered into the kitchen and, in the 15-seconds he wasn't in my direct line of vision, took a knife out of the butcher's block and slit his hand open. Stitches weren't necessary, the wound was glued shut at the ER. The lesson, however, will probably last a lifetime. On the way home he announced that he will "never, ever play with knives again." Oh, and when asked WHY he played with the knife in the first place? "I was feeling curious."
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