Eye am teyered

I was lying next to Bumble, hoping to catch a little shut-eye while she played beside me, when I was suddenly roused from my drowsy haze by an acute pain in my right eye. The little blessed Bumble had tried to scratch out my eye. Again. I wonder how many babies have successfully yanked out their mother's eye?

I imagined what would happen if she succeeded. I'd have to call Mike at work to drive me to the hospital. It would probably take a couple of attempts to pick up the phone since my depth perception would be gone. Mike would come home and probably put my eye in a glass of milk without knowing why. We'd walk down the block to the car, me holding my hand over my empty socket, Mike holding the wriggly baby in one arm, the glass of eye-milk in his other hand stretched out of baby's reach. I bet they don't let you drive if you only have one eye. I'd have to wear an eye patch for the rest of my life. Would the baby feel guilty when she realized what she had done? Would she methodically remove one eye from all her dolls? Would she need excessive therapy? Would I?