When we were in Dallas, I had to make a trip to pick up all of Hudson’s necessities. I don’t like to travel with all of that stuff because it just means that we have to bring one more bag and it’s just as easy to pick it up when we get to Dallas. My mom had already picked up diapers, formula, baby food, and wipes, but I still needed a few things. So we went to Tom Thumb and I got Mylicon, baby Tylenol, Wet Ones, and a bulb syringe.
Now that he’s crawling, Hudson’s little hands are always so grubby, so as soon as we got home, I opened up the canister of Wet Ones to thread the wipes through the little toothed hole.
And what happened next sounded like this, “Help? HELP!”
My dad came running in to help me (because for all he knew I’d fallen or the baby had choked or something horrible had happened) and he saw something that looked like this…
This is NOT my finger. Image found via here. I wasn’t able to scream out in pain and whip out my Canon Rebel to capture this glorious moment at the same time.
I am happy to know that when searching for an image for this post I was able to find exactly what I needed– proving that I’m not the only idiot on the planet.
So we carefully got my finger out of that toothed, prongy hole while I screamed out that it felt like the tip of my finger might pop off or lose all circulation. That plastic? Oh, it just feels like it could chop your finger off.
Someone else took over the Wet Ones feeding the wipe through the hole process for me. And then I saw it. The warning label.
The warning level that helps prove that I’m not the only idiot on the planet and wasn’t the first one to do this, but it also proves that I’m even more of an idiot for doing it when there’s a perfectly legible warning label on the back.
Note: This is not an attack on Wet Ones. I love Wet Ones. This is an attack on me and my inability to see a dangerous situation disguised as a Wet Ones canister.
