Safety Last

I think I'm not alone in keeping my dishwasher soap, Windex and Comet in the cabinet under the kitchen sink. In that Heloise's Kitchen Hints book I mentioned on my other blog I read a tip about moving these things to a higher cabinet. Heloise, however, wasn't worried about children consuming toxic cleaners. She professed how much energy we'd save by not bending over so many times a day.

Heloise clearly did not have kids. Bending down to pull out the Palmolive is hardly the most taxing thing I do in a day.

Jasper is now tall enough and smart enough to open the cabinets using the knobs. And since I think Heloise's advice is a bit off for 2009 (I'll give her a pass because I think in the 1960s when the book was published dishwashers weren't next to every sink, making that cabinet the logical place for the soap.), we needed to do something to make sure Jasper wasn't able to lick the chemical-laden bottles.

We bought and installed some of those safety latches that mount inside the cabinet and you press down after opening them slightly. But my sink is so deep that it gets in the way, rendering the latches as useful as that stupid baby gate. So I put a fat rubber band around the knobs until we could find a better solution. I made a trip to the hardware store down the street where the manager helped me find the kind of safety latch that goes on the outside of the cabinet. He was sold out of them, so he ordered more just because I asked. How sweet, I thought.

The next week I returned, found the Safety 1st Push 'n Snap Cabinet Lock, bought it and came home. I popped it out of the package and gave it a try. Hmm. Not so easy to open, and it wasn't even on the cabinet yet. Maybe it had a learning curve, I thought. So I fastened it on the knobs. Smiled, and walked away.


Next thing I know, Jasper was VERY interested in this new thing. And the cabinet doors he'd ignored for the past week were once again intriguing. He pushed and pulled on the thing, tightening the lock even more than I did. It was a success, though, in terms of keeping him out of the cabinet. I'd worry about opening it later.

I kind of forgot about the lock altogether until I was cleaning up the dishes from dinner that night. I plunked the last plate into the bottom rack of the dishwasher, pushed the door shut, and in the routine motion, reached for the cabinet to grab the soap.

It was a no go. Seth, who was downstairs but within ear shot, asked what my grunting was about. I halfway explained as I cursed, pushed and pulled. Please, I asked, would he help. Finally, with both of us pushing and pulling, using a chopstick to press down the tiny button and a butter knife for leverage, the lock popped open.

It was kid-proof all right, and, I imagined, more stressful than calling poison control.

I pulled the lock off the knobs, threw it back in the packaging and mumbled how I didn't want to take it back because the friendly manager had ordered it just for me. "Take. It. Back," Seth said.

I then wondered if any mom had ever gone postal at a Safety 1st. How funny that would be, huh? I could see the headlines now, mixing the words safety, crazed, mom and weapon. All joking aside, I do not want anyone to get hurt, inflict pain or otherwise maim people over design flaws. But is it really too much to ask that things just work right? I personally volunteer for product testing.

So, I'm back to the rubber band. It's one of those really wide ones that doesn't have too much give, so it doesn't slip right off. I'm pretty sure you won't see it mentioned in the baby safety manual, but it's working. Sue me; it works better than anything we've actually paid for. Jasper simply leaves it alone, and I can run the dishwasher all by myself, no spouse, chopstick or butter knife required.

Rookie Mom Mistake: Believing that baby safety products will work the way they're advertised. Or that they reduce stress. Heloise, I'm pretty sure, would agree that a little less stress can do wonders for a woman's day.