Safety Net

Laying on the floor with a razor knife in one hand and a half removed piece of baseboard trim in the other having half a dozen or so inch+ long finishing nails sticking out of it, I hear Jen call from down the hall and in the kitchen,

“Can you watch Abigail, I’m about to open the oven?”

Awkwardly I look over my shoulder, trying not to scratch the wall with the nails or cut myself with the razor, to see Abigail happily playing a couple of feet from me with a ball of cat hair or something and say,

“Sure. She’s fine.”

then carefully go back about my chores.

– b