Skip to main content
I ignored the warning signs. I set about washing a load of dishes in the apparent quiet of my house- Lucy and Jack playing happily upstairs.
I suffered the consequences, as well.
As soon as I finished my task, I went upstairs to check on those innocent little chickens, finding a greasy-looking Lucy, and a Jack with bubblegum minty breath and hands full of pink princess toothpaste. She knew that she was in trouble right off.
Toothpaste and lotion make for a strangely pleasant smelling hair product.

I scolded, I washed hands, I tried to clean a mirror subject to the lotion tyrants' attacks, and I called poison control. a child of twenty-two pounds would have to eat twenty-two teaspoons of fluoride toothpaste before being in any danger, and they would probably begin vomiting before that point. Jack maybe had one and a half teaspoons worth, by my judging, but I gave him the recommended milk and put these two in the bath for a Sound hair washing.
Lotion is much easier to get rid of than lanolin. Now I know.


Popular posts from this blog

Summer in Florida

This is our fourth summer in Florida- a number that amazes me.  I still don't feel at home here, although  I know my way around.  I don't feel completely out of place in the supermarket, but I have this suspicion that everyone knows I'm not from here, and they know that they don't know me.  That special kind of paranoia belongs to the homesick, and even while I acknowledge its foolishness, I still feel it.
Summers- I may have mentioned this before- are the worst. 
     It's partly an issue of comfort, or rather, of discomfort.  The long summer days are hot and sticky, the bugs are ravenous and abundant, the plants are vindictive with thorns and poison, and the air itself is attempting to decompose your body 37% faster than air in dryer climes.*  If there is a spring or pool to soak yourself in, it's fine, pleasant, even, because there are no ticks in the water, and you can usually avoid mosquitoes under the water.  To Florida's credit, there are any nu…
Brother Job texted his sweetheart, although we didn't know it was his sweetheart taking him away from us.

Jack, who is 9, and Miles, who is 7.

This is Jack.  He loves zip-ties and drawing.  He has a best friend named Dan.  He will be 10 in less than a month.  His favorite food is "nutella crepes."  He wants to be an artist.  Or an actor.  He wants to do a lot of different things, all at once. 

 This is Miles.  He is 7- he will be eight in July.  He likes lots of things in general and not so much specifically.  He is a picky eater.  He wants to sleep like a burrito, and never make his bed.  He never has a problem finding a friend to play with on the playground- on any playground.  His best friend is Michael.

These boys seek each other out, and want to play with each other, but at any moment- ANY MOMENT- it might become a violent and loud fight.  What was play one second ago becomes a battle this second.  The worst punishment I can give them is to not let them play with each other.