“Poison Control, this is Janet. How can I help you?”

Hers was the calm confidence you want to hear in an emergency. This was my first call to the Poison Control hotline, but I could tell by Janet’s voice—warm, a touch grandmotherly—we were in good hands.

I gave her the quick rundown. My son had eaten more toothpaste than was strictly necessary for brushing one’s teeth. He loves the stuff. I had followed him up the stairs about thirty seconds behind and found him sitting on the toilet seat squeezing toothpaste into his mouth. Two hands grasping the tube, going to town.

She made a sound of acknowledgment.

“Was it Tom’s of Maine Children’s Toothpaste… Silly Strawberry flavor?”

Janet was on her game.

“Hah! Is that the one they’re all eating?” I asked.

“Children do love to ingest that toothpaste.”

She asked Jakey’s age and weight. She said, “I’m sure he didn’t eat too much of it, but let me run the numbers.”

Sure enough, he would have had to eat two tenths of an ounce more than the bottle could hold to have been truly harmful. Since ours was mostly empty when he started, we agreed I’d give him some milk and let her know if there was any turn for the worst.

Apparently the calcium in milk does something to neutralize whatever you don’t want kids to eat in toothpaste. Or so Janet would have me understand.

I will consider that call a dry run for the real emergency I hope never occurs. It’s both unsettling and reassuring to know even children’s toothpaste has the poison control hotline number on the back. Just in case.

And again in our home the verboten dental hygiene product is placed ever higher, ever more out of reach. Until such time each evening as a reliable adult may supervise the applying of the toothpaste in a tiny daub and the brushing of the teeth.

The kid is a danger to himself. I suspect all the good ones are. Still—and this only occurs to me now—maybe I should put that number into my phone. Or keep a tube of toothpaste handy.

Just in case.