>And to Think This Kind of Thing Happens All Day, Every Day

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I was cleaning up after making the kids’ lunch the other day when I heard a piercing scream from around the corner. I ran to find out what was the matter.

“Punky, are you okay?” I asked breathlessly. She stood on a runner rug in the hallway between our kitchen and den, a look of mingled horror and disgust on her face. Behind her, Bruiser had also come running- He stood in the doorway, peering at his sister with deep concern.

“I stepped on… something,” she said in a voice that suggested she’d perhaps squashed a baby chick, or a day-old puppy’s head. Her foot remained poised a few inches off the ground as she waited for me to assess the damage. Quickly, I got on my knees and looked.

It was….

…the remnants of a cold chicken nugget.

DUM-DUM-DUM-DUMMMMMMMMM!

“Oh, Bruiser must have dropped this on the rug after lunch,” I said irritatedly, flicking bits of chicken off Punky’s heel. “Yick.”

“Get it off, Mommy,” Punky screeched. “Get it off!” Bruiser promptly began crying.

“Let me wet a towel,” I said resolutely, standing up. “Then I can get the sticky part off your foot.” Bruiser continued crying and in the spirit of atonement, tackled Punky in a desperate bear hug. They both fell down. Punky hit her head on the door of the laundry closet. While I ran a towel under the kitchen sink, they lay together in a heap on the floor, crying.

These are the days of our lives.

This post originally appeared on Parents.com.