There are, as usual, many sane comments to be found on Frank Key’s page, one of which sensibly draws attention to the fact that it is aluminium, not tin, foil that the majority of hungry babies like to throw down their little throats – another which confesses that, should such an accident occur, perhaps one would ‘rather consult Hooting Yard, in the hope that Dobson had scribbled some misguided advice about how to deal with the situation… than the vast dusty tomes of obscure European literature’. A fair point, since I have long since established the fact that I have no advice whatsoever to dole out to foil-feasting kiddies. (Should some wise blogger decide to form a society dedicated to furthering understanding of Aluminion Foil Ingestion and All Its Grisly Outcomes – AFIAIGO – I will, however, be happy to join, so long as there’s no subscription fee).
One thing I have established, finally, is the root of this whole problem: i.e. the page at Underneath the Bunker that netted my very first baby-tin-foil searcher. It turns out to have been this page which, whilst it offers absolutely no tangible advice, description or passing reference to a young tin-foil muncher, nonetheless contains all the words ‘baby swallowed tin foil’ within the same sentence. This is hardly surprising, since the page consists of an excerpt of Yevgeny Nonik’s subtle carnivores: a work with only one sentence (albeit a rather long one).