Pass the penny, please

We can probably all agree that the value of a penny has very little worth. Unless, of course, it has been swallowed by a precocious toddler like the one who lives in the Stanley household. Then, that penny is one we are all eager to see again.

Last night at bed time, Christopher bribed Jeffrey with the penny. "Jeffrey, I'll give you a quarter if you let me sleep in your bed with you." Jeffrey took the bribe and Christopher handed over a penny from my Disney fund jug. (We will probably never get to Disney from the quarters, dimes, nickels and mostly pennies collected over the years, because the kids are always borrowing from it and for obvious reasons, the silver coins rarely make it back to the jug. But that's another blog entry.)

So everybody is in bed, and it isn't long before I hear Jeffrey crying. It is the first time out of a half dozen that I am beckoned out of bed and upstairs to resolve the matter. Jeffrey is crying that his mouth hurt, and having chapped lips, I assumed he needed some Chapstick. After applying some to his lips and having him protest, he informs me that the penny went down his throat. Christopher corroborates this statement by informing me that he did, in fact, notice Jeffrey gagging, but he thought it was because he was going to throw up. Right.

Jeffrey's crying came from his fear that the penny was swallowed. I assure him that it is OK, and that now he will have to let it pass through his system. I get the boys resettled and head back to bed.

It is just after midnight, and Jeffrey is crying again. This time, he tells me his stomach hurts. I know he hasn't really had a decent dinner, and I think the pains are those related to hunger and not necessarily the fact that he is trying to digest a penny. But to ease my mind, I go online and research the topic and after being reassured that he will most likely pass the penny without incident, I return to my own bed.

It is three more times Jeffrey's crying beckons me back upstairs. His stomach hurts. But he is half asleep when he is telling me, and I can only assume that it isn't so easy for his little body to digest a foreign object, especially on an empty stomach. At 6:30 AM, he is awake enough to emphasize the pain in his stomach, but when I offer him something to eat, he gratefuly accepts the offer. I toast him some mini waffles while he waits in our bed and by the time I get back to him, he is sleeping again. The next time he wakes up, he wants a peanut butter and jelly and fluff sandwich. I make him a half, of which he takes one tiny nibble, and again returns to his fitful sleep after occasionally crying out in pain. Perhaps the penny moving along from the large intestine to the small?

He wakes up happy. He has eaten, we have taken a hike on the snowy trails, and he is his usual precocious self. We are still waiting for the penny. But I have no doubt it will make an appearance before the end of the day today. And it will not be going back into the Disney fund.