Parenthood is one part life-affirming family drama and one part horror movie. Sometimes the line between these two blurs very quickly and terrifyingly.
Last night, for instance, after we had gotten home from the Valentine’s Dance, I was carrying Miles when he just decided to go in for a big hug. No real reason was given — he just threw his arms around my neck and squeezed tightly. It was one of those moments I live for.
All the more jarring, then, when it suddenly turned into a moment of sheer horror. One moment, he was squeezing tight, the next he was shaking and kicking with giddiness…and the next he was digging his razor-sharp claws into the back of my next. Not simply sinking his fingernails into my neck and holding there — oh no — Miles started aggressively scratching at my neck, raking his nails across my neck in a very real attempt to rend my flesh from the bone.
I immediately screamed and tried to pull him away, but his vice-like grip proved too tight for me to pry off. I staggered around the house, calling out for help (which, naturally, never arrived) as Miles continued clawing and laughing.
Once the incident was over, I sat Miles down and sternly explained that it was okay to hug, but not to kill. I wasn’t able to see the back of my neck, but it definitely stung. I asked Jaclyn to take a picture once she emerged from the apparently sound-proof bedroom, and her response upon seeing the aftermath of the savage attack was, “What happened to you?!”
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 