I mean that literally. I was cooking spaghetti for dinner when I got burned. I went to stir the noodles, but I stirred to hard. The spoon slid right out of the pan and bolling hot water was thrown right onto my stomach. It hurt BAD. I screamed, "Oh SH**T!" The thought of tiny ears was far from my mind at that moment.
Then the thought of tiny ones did enter my mind. Better me than either one of my kids I thought to my self as I searched the crowded freezer for an ice pack. I used my pants to hold it into place while I finished cooking and thanked God I wasn't holding one of the kids because I often do while I cook. In fact just a few minutes before this I was holding Christopher, but I had sat him down in the living room to play. He was still fussy so I don't know why I put him in the living room, but I am so glad I did. I have learned my lesson to. No kids while I cook no matter what. If they gotta scream they gotta. Its better than getting burned!
I know have a bunch of large red patches on my tummy next to my belly button, just above the stretch marks and other scars. The worst part is that even now hours later it still hurts, and it hurts to hold the kids. I don't know if I even have any thing to put on it or a bandaid big enough to cover it. That's my luck.