Thursday, 10 February 2011

Bath water blues and perfume prattle

In the deep and dark December (to sort of quote Simon & Garfunkel) our boiler nearly packed up. Typically it occurred on one of the coldest days of the winter, with snow thick on the ground and icicles hanging from the gutters. The boiler man came round to fix the problem, which ironically turned out to be something as mundane as a slightly loose connection and having to bleed the radiators. In the event, he also adjusted the thermostat, with the result that we now have very close to boiling water on tap. Energy efficiency and high gas bills aside, this can also be a blessing and a curse, as we found out tonight.

I was giving my two daughters a bath, as we do every evening. Lately my older daughter, Hannah, has got into the habit of putting in the plug and starting the water running. We haven't really thought twice about this. On this occasion she turned on the hot water tap and left it running, until it had got up to some serious heat. My other daughter, Daisy, must have taken a plastic cup and held it under the tap and in the process spilled it over Hannah's chest and arm. I say must have, because I had my back turned, so didn't notice anything until Hannah started screaming blue murder. We immediately ran some cold water and put some cold flannels over the burn areas and then got some special burn cream from the chemist afterwards. To cut a long story short, she seems to be fine and there is no obvious sign of swelling, blistering or broken skin, which we are hoping is a good thing, but we will monitor her closely over the next twelve hours or so, just in case.

I'm not really sure what the point is of writing about this on my blog, save to let some steam out. I was extremely angry with myself for losing concentration and not paying enough attention to what my children were doing. Part of me (my inner critic, damn him, as Josephine would say) was saying that these things happen and that I shouldn't beat myself up too much, while another part of me was cursing myself for negligence and for taking for granted the safety of my children. Whatever, the bottom line is that accidents can happen so bloody quickly, especially where children are involved, and also illustrates how easily a parent can lapse into bad habits and just assume their children can handle certain situations. I'm just very thankful that it wasn't more serious. I mean, Hannah or Daisy could have slipped while leaning over to reach a tap and could easily have fallen into the bath of near-boiling water.

So on a happier note, I did wear some perfume today. I tried Parfume De Rosine's Twill Rose and DSH's Cuir et Champignon. I will probably write about these in more detail at some point but for now I can say that I like Twill Rose, although it is slightly underwhelming. I would have preferred more dirt/skank/whatever from it, but it smells good and is perfectly wearable. Cuir et Champignon is the second DSH which doesn't fade from my skin within the hour (the other is Vintage Patchouli) so that counts as a major positive in my book. The mushroom accord in this is startlingly realistic and goes so well with leather. Who would have thought? Brilliant!

On the samples front, I still haven't purchased any. Every night I sit at my computer browsing the various sites, umming and ahhing over what to buy, but like some cold-war president with his finger hovering over that red button, I just can't bring myself to click the purchase icon. Damn... perfume purchase impotence - that's a first for me.


  1. *hugs* I understand how you feel about your children. Once when sitting in my mom and dad's yard, the garage door broke and came slamming down and Joseph (my son) was only a few feet away. Fortunately I screamed his name (as he was running into the garage to get a toy) and he stopped to look at me and wasn't squashed by the huge door. Having children is such a pleasure and a heart-break - we do what we can, but no parent is perfect nor are we psychics. You are a good father!

    Another time Joseph and I were at a party and there was a pool in the yard and he fell in WITHOUT me realising it for a few seconds, until I was able to fish him out. He was scared, but when I asked him the other day (he's 23 now) if he remembered that, he doesn't at all.

    The funniest parent-oops occurred when my brother and I were small. My mom loved talking on the phone to her sister in Pennsylvania and this was before mobile phones, so she was stuck in the kitchen. Me and brother were running around the dining room like maniacs, so my Mom grabbed what she thought was a stuffed animal and walloped by brother as he ran by the kitchen door. Ooops - that stuffed animal had a music box in it and my brother was bleeding like crazy. When later we were at the grocery store with his head bandaged, my brother proudly pointed out to on-lookers "My Mom did that to me!" Thank goodess this all happened in the mid-60s, or she would have been called by Child Services!

  2. Frida thanks for the kind comment and the anecdotes. Some crazy times! Speaking of garage doors, a friend of mine years ago had one of his toes squashed by a weight from the door that snapped and fell on his foot. It was not pretty - he pretty much lost his big toe, which was crushed beyond repair. Fortunately he still turned out a fairly happy guy!

  3. We do what we can do - again we're all human *many hugs* And I'm glad your pal is a happy guy these day. Hope you're not still beating yourself up!

    Oh and btw, I am one of of six siblings, so I have many more parent-oops stories to relate! ;)



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