No More Fish for Me!

On Thursday I chef'd up one of our family's favorite dinners, fish tacos.  We were a bit rushed after squeezing in a later than usual visit to the Y to work out so we plated the food and were eating in no time.  I warned everyone to watch for bones.  The kids are seasoned in the process as we eat fish probably once a week thanks to the freezer full of cod, halibut, rockfish and salmon caught by (insert back pat here) us.  

Brooklyn was putting any bones she found on my plate when all of the sudden her eyes got huge and she gasped, "A bone, a BONE, I swallowed a BONE!"  She has a natural flair for the dramatic so both Brett and I try to get her to drink some milk to wash it down.  How about coughing?  How about clearing your throat?  How about stop SCREAMING!  She was screaming.  Sheer panic.  We could not get her to calm down.  Brett popped her out of her chair and took her to the sink to get her to try and spit/gag/breathe, do something to get the bone free from her throat.  Nothing.  Just more panic, choking and gagging.  She then went into what I would like to call a hysterical fit.  She was gagging, yelling, saying it hurt so bad and she started to hyperventilate a little.  At the pinnacle of the fit, ta-da the bone freed itself.  She immediately stopped, looked at Brett and did a double fist-pump.  She then hugged Brett, exclaimed, "it's gone, it's gone!" and then skipped back to the dinner table.  When she sat down and the adrenaline rush was gone she looked at us very seriously and declared, "No more fish for me."  

I'll have you know while all of this was happening I was going over what I needed to pack for our second ER visit in one week.  Luckily we evaded the ER.  My nerves are fried.