“Google, what happens when you eat dog food?”

“Jackie? Are you ready to go to bed?”

Hmmm. No response. That's weird

"Jackie! We can play hide and seek after you get your jammies on!"

Still no response?

"...Jackie?"

I was starting to get worried. I looked around for the toddler, but I couldn’t find him anywhere!

Is he in his room? No, but he sure did leave a monsterous pile of trucks and action figures for me to step on.

Maybe he’s in his parents’ roo- No, wait. The door to his parents’ room was locked before I got here.

Maybe he’s just in the bathroom… Nope! All of the bathroom doors are open. Where could he have possibly gone?

Frustrated, I ran downstairs. Before I stepped foot on the halfway through the stairs, I heard it. Rustling near the pantry. Considering how the dog, Charlie, was lying on her bed, I scrambled downstairs.

…

OH MY GOD!

It took me a second to realize I never unlocked the pantry when I went to make Jackie dinner. My brain flashed to every possible thing that could have harmed the 5 year old: the plastic plate high up, the random spices he could’ve shoved mouthfuls of, enough candy to stay up an entire week without sleep, and the open bag of dog kibble.

I yanked the door, (feeling like I nearly ripped the handle off.) And there he was. The acrid smell filled the room. In the middle of the pantry, surrounded by cans and pasta boxes, Jackie held a tiny fistful of dry dog food. The clip was off the bag, and I calmly freaked out.

"Ohhh... Shoot! Jackie, how much of that have you eaten???"

"Uhh, I don't know." And he continued to try and put more of the kibble in his mouth.

"Jackie, stop that! You aren't supposed to eat Charlie's food!"

"But I wanted to see if it was any good!"

He's so lucky he didn't choke on the pellets. Thank God he's still alive. But I was terrified of any possible side effects. Not wanting to wait at the Intensive Care Unit and angering Mr. and Mrs. Katz, I turned to my only companion: Google.

I typed, "What happens when you eat dog food?" afraid of the possible results.

Thankfully, the results assured me that, while it tasted awful, eating dog food once wouldn't kill Jackie. To be safe, I promptly called poison control, and they told me that he may feel a little nauseous, but should be fine in the long run.

I cleaned up the pantry, left a note for his parents, and took Jackie to bed. He was surprisingly more than willing to pick up his toys and put pj's on.

"Marwee?"

"Yeah, Jackie?"

"Am I gonna be awight?"

"You're going to be just fine! I'm going to stay by you tonight in case anything happens though, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you!"

I turned around to turn off the lights, but Jackie stopped me.

"Wait! Wait! Marwee, can you read me a story?"

He seemed so excited, despite what happened. I smiled and grabbed his favorite book: The Very Hungry Caterpillar.