Fruit Inspection

My son teaches me so much about life. Who better than a curious little boy to help me remember to find such delight in the small things. Finding a caterpillar in the tall grass, throwing rocks into the lake and cheering wildly after a big splash, or smiling proudly when he is able to twist the lid on his sippy cup all by himself.

Today, however, he filled my brain with knowledge I could really live without. You know, I can file it away with other lessons he’s given me such as: The best way to clean 2 quarts of sticky lemonade off my hardwood floor (remember this?). Or how many products I will use to remove the cherry Kool Aid stain out of his bedroom carpet only to realize, I just need to purchase a throw rug. Or how about, what cleans a Sharpie marker off my desktop? And don’t forget my personal favorite, crawling baby boys can indeed get into the pantry and when they do they will inevitably turn the bag of flour upside down getting it into all the cracks and crevices of the floor and there it shall remain until Jesus comes back.

See? This is just a lot of information I could live the rest of my life without knowing. And today’s discovery ranks right up there in the top 5.

It started while I was trying to fix my hair for the day. I already had to come out of the bedroom twice to settle a sibbling dispute. I barely had time to pick the brush up again when I heard more fussing! “That’s it”, I thought. “I’m separating them!”

So I went into the living room and announced they were both going to their rooms until I was ready for the day, and then I would come upstairs and discuss what happened. Savannah, ever the drama queen, burst into tears, ran up to her room, and flopped onto her bed sobbing. Emery looks at her, then at me, and says, “Okay Mommy. I go.” He went a little too willingly, and that probably should have been my first clue.

But I went back into my bedroom, finished a few things up, and then headed upstairs. I had not fixed my hair yet, but I was surprised that I didn’t hear the kids start to talk or knocking on each other’s doors. Hmmmm….

I opened Savannah’s door and she was playing quietly. No Emery. I went over to Emery’s room, knocked on the door, and asked, “Emery, what are you doing?”

“I doing ‘dis,” was his reply. I opened the door and found out that ‘dis actually means THIS:

Do you know what ‘dat is?

Desitin! As in, the medicated diaper rash cream.

And now, let me tell you what I learned from all ‘dis and ‘dat. Desitin does NOT come off by simply giving the child a bath. OH NO! Add water to Desitin and it makes a greasy, slimy mess. You must use soap. Lots and Lots of soap. And a washcloth with a bit of scrubbing power behind it. And once you have all the white cream off, the child will still smell like Desitin. So you will then run another tub of water adding lots and lots of bubble bath in hopes of masking the odor. When that finally works and you take him out of the tub, dry him off and take him back to his room for clothing, then you will notice the room smells too and see the white cream on his carpet. Right there next to the Cherry Kool Aid stain.