The time my kid tried to kill me or make sure you pay attention to your kids

Long before discovering the joys of writing more than witty one liners, there was an incident in my house with Killian that I posted about on my Facebook. I seem to talk about Killian more then Nicolas because he seems to be the one doing more things that cause me to shake my head or scratch my head quizzically. This incident was documented on my fb page when I had about 200 followers. If you are one of those been there since the beginning folks then this story is a retelling of the time I found my kid tried to take me out.

I work at night. This makes it easier on our family, I can be there to take care of the kids during the day while my wife goes off to do whatever she does to earn a paycheck. No, I don’t know what she does for a living, she has told me a hundred and one times and I just can’t remember. It earns her a paycheck and she doesn’t leave the house in hooker heels so I really don’t care to try and remember what it is. Something to do with being a social worker, and while that is a very appropriate term for stripper I really don’t think she works the red light district.

Working all night and raising kids all day is hard. It’s something that is done out of necessity, not choice. I would love to ship the kids off to a Haitian daycare provider so I could sleep. Actually did do that! They attended daycare for a grand total of four days before anxiety gripped dad pulled them. The point of them going to daycare was so I could rest. All I did was stare at the clock waiting for my kids to come home, worrying about their well being.

So, being at home with the kids, you still have housework to do. So I would try and set the kids up with some distracting activity and set about cleaning like dude Cinderella.

Every parent knows that if a house with kids goes quiet something is up. I was so busy cleaning the living room, I missed the quiet creep in.

As I swept the floor, eyes half open and bloodshot, humming some song about how bad I had it, the quiet crept in.

We had recently moved, so we had moving boxes everywhere. Unbeknownst to me, Killian had taken an empty cardboard box and pushed it up against the cabinets and countertop area. Then he climbed onto it.


“What the fuck have the kids gotten into now?” I wondered to myself as I headed to the kitchen.

And there he was. Killian on top of a box.

Next to the knife block.

Steak knife in hand.

As Killian giggled and stomped his feet I’ll always remember the, “Dude, Not cool!” look on Nicolas’ face. I’m pretty sure that clang I had heard was a knife directed in his direction.

So here I am, face to face with a knife wielding toddler, unsure of exactly what the hell to do. It felt like a tense stand off between us. I knew that if I yelled or moved to fast I might scare him into accidentally dropping the knife, possibly cutting himself. While my kids drive me insane some days, I do enjoy them whole. Didn’t want little man losing a toe! Or worse!

“Hey bubba, what are you doing? Give me that please”

“Killian, you’re so silly! Can daddy have that”

I coaxed and crept closer. Coaxed and crept closer. Coaxed and crept closer.

When I closed about half the distance, I began to reach my hand out for the knife. In my mind I had just negotiated the suspect into handing over his weapon and was going to receive a special commendation from the wife when she got home, if you know what I mean.

Then Killian’s smile grew large and wicked. Little man had other plans.

I recently read an article that said babies are born bad. I’m not for reinforcing that article, but an evil glint crept into this tyrant’s eyes. He pulled his hand back.


I winced. I jumped. I swore.

I’m not proud of swearing at a child, but I stand by it. That motherfuckin kid threw a knife at me.

I swore at my kid.


He THREW a knife at me!

Luckily, this one year old totally sucked at knife throwing. The knife harmlessly slid across the kitchen floor. I sprinted in, scooping up both children and carrying them away from the knife range before returning to gather weapons and break down Killian’s homemade stepping stool.

While the outcome did not involve injury and I can laugh about it, the gravity of the situation has never escaped me. I know how serious the situation was and learned from it. You could say this was the day I grew eyes in the back of my head. Obviously taking your eyes off your kid for a second can lead to disastrous consequences.
Fortunately no one was hurt in my house and it’s something I can laugh about, the knife throwing toddler. And yes, we moved the knife block.

Do you have a similar story? Have your kids ever gotten somewhere they shouldn’t? Is it wrong that after this incident I tried to sell Killian to a traveling circus as the great knife throwing toddler?


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8 comments on “The time my kid tried to kill me or make sure you pay attention to your kids
  1. Uh, yeah, my toddler slipped out the front door (who knew he could work the deadbolt?) along with our dog and took off. By the time I realized it he had been on the road for about 5 minutes. I had left him happily playing with toys and watching Mr. Rogers and was stuffing yet another load of laundry into the washer and grabbing stuff out of dryer to take up and fold with him in the den. OMFG! What do you do? Stop and look in every nook and cranny? Is he playing Hide and Go Seek? Could that be wasting precious time if he’s sprinting down the road chasing the dog? I called my husband and brother and then 911. The police told me to stay in the house and look for him. OMG, that was so hard! I couldn’t find him and wanted to go out to search. Within minutes, 2 squad cars arrived and a helicopter was up. The officer sat me down, obviously doing a drug/alcohol assemsment on me and once they realized I was just a sober, panic stricken mother, assured me they would find him. After 20 agonizing minutes, my brother drove up with my son and dog in tow. My son was so excited having been on this great adventure with the dog. Hand me the Valium!!! Glad your story ended well, the little bastards get into all kinds of shit. Thank God they are cute at that age!

    • Ha its so true! These things happen! Just yesterday a friend told me her three year old let herself out of the house and was playing in snow, in her pj’s. When these things happen its good to say a little prayer that no one was hurt!

      Thanks for reading

  2. This made me laugh. Awesome read!

    When Jace learned how to open the dishwasher, he got a knife out and was walking around with it, like a crayon. Can’t freak out, any loud noises or sudden movements and you have a kid RUNNING with a knife. Its scary, but you did good.

  3. That reminded me of the time that The B (at 2 years old) climbed into the pantry, got a can of pull-tab-to-open spaghetti-o’s, a spoon, and a bowl and was sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, proudly eating his accomplishment at 4 in the morning…. Scary stuff to realize that bad things CAN happen, even at home!

  4. As scary as that must have been I can’t help but laugh. I’ve never had my kids throw knives at me (although I’m sure it has crossed their minds!) but I know I must have said ‘If you keep jumping off the bed you’re going to break your arm.’ Totally happened and I’m SURE I swore.
    On a serious note, I’m super glad nothing horrible happened. To any of you.

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