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Continued from here.

His father gazed at his son looking over at the limp computer and remembering the same incident. At the time, he had seen the small plastic computer key; a stark white square in his son’s curled fingers. He immediately panicked that the piece would be popped right into his son’s delicate mouth and tear at the soft flesh there. So he has swiped at the poor boys hands, the piece tumbling out to disappear somewhere while he ran to grab the plastic sheet, hoping the whole time that another piece would not be grabbed before he could get back. He carefully covered the widespread pieces and then knelt to inspect his son for any more dangerous computer parts and noticed the small cut on the tip of Job’s finger.

Infection brought on another panic and he plopped his son down on the counter, swiping the hand away from Job’s mouth again. Any particles in the cut should not be swallowed. Once swallowed he could think of nothing to keep the dirt from harming his son, of this he felt sure. While his son watched in dazed confusion he reached for the First Aid kit his wife had hidden away under the sink in the one cabinet they had been able to baby proof with the limited (expensive) availability of specialty items.

As he patted the open wound with the precious drops of hydrogen peroxide, he could see the pain welling up in his son’s eyes. He dabbed the corner of his eye when his son looked away for a moment, and wished he had been more careful with him.

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