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Terror on top of pride. Sharon’s baby had finally learned how to walk. Sharon was even more in love but nervous as her young son Stanley toddled around the house.
Her own spitting image, five-year-old Shelly sat in front of the tv after kindergarten. The girl colored and let her brother play around her but not with her. Sharon had set up carrot sticks and ranch as an after-school snack for Shelly and set out applesauce for both her children. Shelly watched Frozen as her brother would come up and try to jump and sit on her. Shelly would yell “go away, turd” and push him off. He would whine and cry and try again only to be pushed off.
Sharon was used to this bickering between her kids. She had an important phone call and went to take it in the kitchen. She left the snacks, cartoons, and crayons out for her kids so she could get a moment of peace.
Little Stan went up to Shelly again. “Mine?” He asked, pointing to her carrots. “No, turd, this is big kid snacks. Go eat your applesauce.” Stan tried to sit on her lap again and she pushed him off just as Elsa ran off into the forest away from Anna. How nice that would be.
Stan pointed to Shelly’s snacks and tried to dip his finger in her ranch. She pushed his hand away. “Fine, turd, but Elsa is about to sing Let It Go. Leave me alone.” She got a carrot stick and put a generous amount of ranch on it and handed it to her brother.
He was so happy since he now proudly had two front teeth. He licked at the ranch like a popsicle and walked behind the couch as the best part of Frozen started. Within a minute, the ranch was gone and he was left with just carrot. It was slightly sweet if not hard. He tried to go back to his sister to ask for more but was pushed away. “Let me sing, turd! Let it goooo!”
He went back behind the couch and chewed at the carrot. He munched and chewed, pieces of carrot fell down the front of his chin. Then, success, a piece came loose from the big part. Now what? All he ate was soft foods. Well, he knew what to do with food, he went in for a swallow - and found out he couldn’t.
He tried to cough to get rid of it. “Shut up, turd!” Shelly yelled as she got up to rewind the TV. Stan tried to keep quiet and swallowed again. It went down but not where it was supposed to go.
He couldn’t breathe in now. He tried to cough or cry but both were impossible. Tears ran down his eyes as he grabbed at Shelly again. She pushed him off as he tried to breathe in again. He tried to cough but couldn’t get air in or out. Mommy! He walked over to where his mom was on the phone in the kitchen. He got so far before he collapsed at the entrance between the living room and kitchen.
Sharon had her back turned and heard a little noise. She was still talking away trying to schedule things for the household when she turned to see a little black-haired form laying face down. “Stanley?” She cried hanging up on her wait time as she ran and scooped him up. He looked up at her with frightened eyes and his lips were slightly blue. “Baby, you can’t breathe?” Sharon dialed 911 as she held Stan close.
“Hello, 911, my son can’t breathe.”
“Is he awake still?”
She put an ear to his mouth. She looked in his mouth - a little remnant of carrot. “Sweetie, you can’t have carrots.”
Following 911’s directions, she sat down and laid Stan face down on her lap and slapped his back five times. She turned him over and found the part of his chest instructed and pushed down five times. Nothing came up yet. She repeated the cycle a few more times as tears squeezed out of her son’s eyes.
“Any response?” 911 asked back.
“Nothing.” Sharon sobbed.
“Still conscious?”
Sharon didn’t want to look but picked up Stan’s little form. His lips were purple now and his eyes were rolled back in his head. “No…baby, please.”
“Ok, place him on a hard flat surface and breathe into his mouth five times.”
Sharon nodded and placed him on the kitchen table. She pinched his nose and gave him rescue breaths. “Come on, Stanley, please, breathe for mommy”
“Response?”
“Nothing.”
“Turn him over again and do back blows and compressions and blow in his mouth again.”
“Jesus Christ.” Sharon turned an unconscious Stan on her lap and slapped him on the back five times. This time she was met with a bunch of throw up. Carrots and applesauce spilled on the kitchen floor. “He threw up.”
“Ok, good check his breathing.”
“Nothing, come on, baby.” Sharon blew in his mouth five more times.
There is a knock at the door. “Paramedics!” Sharon held Stan as she ran to the front door. “My baby isn’t breathing, please help!”
Stan was taken from her arms as the paramedics started bagging oxygen on the little boy. A stethoscope was put to his chest and one of the paramedics told the other to stop giving oxygen. Sharon was sure her son was dead at this point. After a moment, a suction was put in his throat for the remaining carrot and vomit. Oxygen resumed now that breath sounds were good.
Shelly was watching tv during all this. She finally looked up. “Why are the cops here?”
Sharon went to the couch and gathered her daughter in her arms. She didn’t want Shelly to look over at the front door but Sharon needed the comfort. After another few minutes, a tiny cough was heard. Stan fought for his breath as Sharon’s body relaxed. “Stanley.” She picked up Shelly and went to her son. “Baby.”
Stan still had an oxygen mask on, his color was back to normal even if his eyes were still closed. “We’re going to take him in for observation, ma’am.” One of the paramedics said. Sharon nodded as she wiped the tears from her eyes and kissed her son softly on the forehead. “We’ll be right there, baby.”