In 1968 or 1969 my boys were at home playing in the front of the bathroom. This was a two room bathroom and the playing area (or holding area) was in the front with the toilet and bath in the back. The boys were about five and two at the time.
Their mother was taking a bath in the back room while they were playing in the front part. Cliff, the oldest, was playing with his fourth toe stuck in the linen closet door, not on purpose, just jutting out into the door jamb. Brian, the younger one, slammed the door and removed the top part of the toe.
There was some blood, although the foot was in a sock preventing a huge mess, and there was screaming from all involved.
My wife quickly left the bath, dressed, called the neighbor to come and help and the neighbor drove her to the hospital with the kids.
I was at work at the time, and by the time they reached me, I ran home to look for the toe first, in hopes of reattaching it. Needless to say it was in the sock, but I was too late to do anything about saving it.
A year later we had another son, Josh.
Their mother was taking a bath in the back room while they were playing in the front part. Cliff, the oldest, was playing with his fourth toe stuck in the linen closet door, not on purpose, just jutting out into the door jamb. Brian, the younger one, slammed the door and removed the top part of the toe.
There was some blood, although the foot was in a sock preventing a huge mess, and there was screaming from all involved.
My wife quickly left the bath, dressed, called the neighbor to come and help and the neighbor drove her to the hospital with the kids.
I was at work at the time, and by the time they reached me, I ran home to look for the toe first, in hopes of reattaching it. Needless to say it was in the sock, but I was too late to do anything about saving it.
A year later we had another son, Josh.
Josh was born with eleven toes……
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