You can read all about that struggle in my “Who’s Afraid of the Dark?” post.
So, last night when I was taking a shower at 9:30 p.m., she was still awake in her room wrestling with
her imagination. In yet another attempt to soothe her worries, my husband had left her door ajar,
and opened and lit up the hall closet. Enter high drama. I slipped into the shower for 20 minutes and
when I came out, Sophia was sitting in her bed, room as bright as an airport, and fingering some small,
unidentifiable object. I moved in closer for a better look.
“Sophia, what is that?” I asked as she rolled half a gelatin capsule in between her thumb and index
finger. It was then that I spied the back of a package of magic sponge capsules – the kind you throw in
water and watch grow into sponge creatures.
Sophia helpfully pointed out a mass of sponges piled beneath her bed and then asked, “Are there any
more jelly beans Mommy?”
My stomach lurched, “Did you eat these Sophia?”
I felt the hysteria well in my throat. They’ll have to pump her stomach, or worse, perform surgery to
remove the blockage. My husband calmly inventoried the capsule pieces and sponges while Sophia
chattered away about the various creatures. We had 13 sponges and there had been 18 in the opened
Because they assured us that Sophia would likely pass the sponges on her own, they answered the
phone and our concerns at 10:30 p.m., and were free, Poison Control has a newfound place in my heart
and on my speed dial.