Before I tell said true story I must say PRAISE YOU JESUS.
Now... said true story...
Sitting at the kitchen table I hear lil' M doing one of her favorite things. Pulling cookie sheets out of the lower cabinets -- dropping them on the floor. Clang. clang. I don't think anything of it. I don't look over. She is only 9 feet away and the cookie sheets can't break. Then I hear it again (probably only 20 seconds later). But I realize it isn't a clang, its a cling. And evvvvveryone knows cookies sheets only clang, not cling. My attention is caught. I look over. I stop breathing.
Cookie sheets don't cling. But 6-inch chef's knives do! Sweet Lord have MERCY! My child is waiving a big knife like she is Peter Pan. I run to her screaming her name and NO NO NO NO!! The 2 seconds it takes me to run the 9 feet to her felt like an hour. A whole dissertation of "How not to watch your child die" was recited in my head as I made the 200 mile trek to reach her. During my journey I watch her grab the blade with her other hand as she looks at me smiling with sheer delight.
I arrive at her side and am only able to grab the un-sworded hand as she valiantly treats me as the villainous beast dragon -- waiving her sword at my knees. Luckily my resident man hero shows up and grabs the knife. M is giggling and wants her new shiny toy back. I scoop her up. Inspect her. Not a single cut or scratch. PRAISE JESUS. I fall back on the kitchen floor and try to resume breathing and take a second to decide if I am going to sob or not. I decide that breathing is more important than sobbing.
M's giggles are morphing into shrieks of outrage that her game of Peter Pan has come to an end. Daddy & Mommy discuss how thankful we are and how we must now be aware that little fingers can reach over countertops.
We laugh now at this story, but constantly pray that God will give us wisdom to raise and protect our daughter and that he will intercede when we fail.