Why parents hate craft. Again. And NHS Direct will always send you to A&E

So. Anybody who has ever phoned NHS Direct will know that anything more than a minor cold will get them a referral to A&E. Even if you phone up by accident meaning to get hold of Tax Credits, you will end up being sent to casualty.

Doing craft activity is not only messy but dangerous. Right now I would like to give Mister Maker a googly eye.

The one-year-old (nearly two) ate a googly eye yesterday lunchtime. For those who don’t know what this is, it is a flat penny sized disc with another smaller disc inside that moves around.

And yes, she was fully supervised.

At first there was no immediate worry. I stopped her eating a second one. Then, there was the nagging feeling that perhaps I should seek medical advice, just to be on the safe side.

Have you ever spoken to a health visitor? They are either really good or a bloody disgrace to common sense. Today was a good day. She was fairly sensible but passed the buck to NHS Direct. Do I know the number? By heart.08454647.

Expecting a nurse to phone back sometime within the next 24 hours, I was surprised to be put straight through. This added up to not good. Especially when she had to get further advice and phone back. She told me to take the child to A&E. Bingo.

Observing my child she seemed fairly normal. Sprinkling bits of concrete into her ice cream. Eating a jam sandwich. Punching her brother. But the advice had been given and child protection services would not look favourably should she have some kind of googly eye incident in the middle of the night. Doesn’t everything always happen at night?

It’s easier to follow the advice given than risk any kind of independent thought as a parent. NHS Direct covers their back by sending child to casualty, I cover my back by taking her. After some general worrying that I wasting everyone’s time going to the hospital I consulted Doctor Google. The most reliable of GPs informed me that it was possible for a penny type object to stick to the side of the throat, become dislodged at a later time and block the airway.

Now there are some very ill children chundering over the floor when we get to A&E. My bright as a button Houdini gets out of the pram straps and disappears straight into the treatment area while I am trying to book her in.

Eventually she emerges with five or six plastic cups and victory laps the waiting area.

It’s really hard taking young ones to hospital. At one year of age, you can try with all your might to teach them to sit and be quiet. But what’s worse? A tantruming toddler around ill and injured children or one running around? Whatever you do will earn you doggy looks from some parents and “awww bless” from others. Awww bless? Is it always wrong to lock them in a toilet cubicle for an hour?

Well, in an amazing turnaround of just one hour at the ever reliable Bristol Children’s Hospital, she was checked and we were sent on our way. Craft activity is banned from the house and I am awaiting and googly eye dogging me up from a pile of poo in a dirty nappy.