|
recent posts
----------
Preschool Panic (the Continuing Story)
Up Up Up With the Fish
A New Word for Awful
What Would You Do?
It Never Gets Old...
NOT on a Lighter Note
So I Am Supposed to Say Something...
Lunar New Year Cheers
Watch Your Mouth
Coffee Lovers, Unite! You Have Nothing to Lose In ...
|
 |
You've got questions, she's got answers. Be among the first to read Elise Mac Adam's new etiquette guide.
Pre-order from:
- Simon & Schuster
- Amazon
- Barnes & Noble
Yeech
A disgusting headcold settled on all of the human members of the household. Something else settled on the terrier. (Someone saw him on the street and said: "Oh, what a beautiful dog! He's such an interesting color- almost purple!" This convinced me that a bath was in order. The only thing that could possibly make my brindle dog purple is that he had so much applesauce poured on his head that he was fermenting.)
We've all been coughing and drippy with red noses and watery eyes and moods to match, and everything is just that much more revolting when the cold is on the way out. What astonishes me, though, is the difference between what a toddler finds comfortable and how a marginally grown-up type gets by.
The kid is perfectly happy to have his face completely encrusted with food and- forgive me- mucus and fights savagely and horribly to avoid the touch of a warm washcloth. Just looking at his face, all cracked and multicolored makes me cringe.
Don't go ringing Child Protective Services just yet. I happily drop to the floor and scrabble around with my kid and a washcloth, doing my best to scrub down to the upper layer of child beneath the crud.
What makes me curious, of course, is why the filthy, crusty state would be preferable to being even marginally clean.
Is this a parallel situation to the Mitten Problem that kicked in this winter? (A vague solution has been found for that, by the way, but I won't elaborate for fear of jinxing it.) Is it just free will expressing itself, defying practicality? There is no learning process involved. No matter how many times the kid is wiped and dried and de-chaffed, he will continue to fight for his filth.
Or is he actually more comfortable?
Not that I'd really let him wander around looking like some sort of cubist representation of himself anyway, but these fights are a bit exhausting. He will now ask for tissues, but seems to do that only when he wants one, which has nothing to do with when he needs one. One can only hope that part will come.
posted by Elise at 4:05 AM
........................................................
........................................................
<< Home
........................................................
|
