It's funny how a scene of total peace and serenity can dissolve into utter chaos in just a few seconds...
One second I'm laying in bed cuddling with Shane who's munching on a baby carrot with a dab of Ranch dressing. Life is good as I'm dozing off, looking forward to finally shutting down for the day. The next second Shane's not breathing at all and clutching at his throat. So I start mildly patting him on the back, fully expecting him to start coughing any second. After about ten seconds he's still not breathing and his face is considerably darker. For the next ten seconds I start pounding on his back pretty damn hard with the heel of my palm...still not breathing, a stark look of terror etched onto his face.
"AMYYYYY!!!!!!!"
Then I'm running down the stairs to the kitchen while still slamming on his back, not caring one bit about how many bruises I'm inflicting on my two year-old. Amy screams and joins in by thrusting up on his sternum while I'm thinking that if the choking doesn't kill him then all of this pounding certainly will! Then Amy sprints to the office to dial 911.
Then slowly, mercifully, Shane starts coughing.
Of course two police officers and then two EMT's show up (Cammy and Owen were pretty incensed this morning when they heard about everything they missed!). They administer some oxygen, check his breathing and offer to take him to the hospital, which we decline. And by the time I carry him back upstairs for bedtime he's slapping me on the top of the head and giggling, back to his old self.
Never a dull moment!

