I'm not quite sure when it happened but at some point my cuddly infant with the best smelling hair turned into a grimy toddler with dirt under his fingernails and pieces of dinner in his hair. I remember the days when baths weren't a nightly requirement and my tiny baby smelled like heaven in my arms, but now I have to stop him from eating dog hair and drinking soapy, dirty bath water on a daily basis.
Kids grow up and I'm sure at several points in my life I'll cry remembering the younger years that will be long gone (hell it already happens every time I pack away another set of too-small clothes), and one day I'll miss the silliness and even the dirty bits just a little. Sometimes it's not so bad.. The muddy smile I get after a literal trip into the dirt is at least a little humorous (if no injuries are involved) and the funny face I get when my son has a hair in his mouth as he opens wide, points at his tongue and says "nine" (his word for our dog). I've even stifled a giggle when my son cracks up after an inevitable expulsion of gas. These, while gross in their own right, are accidents. It's the on-purpose gross behavior that sometimes leaves me mouth agape and horrified.
Today, for example, we went to the zoo. We hold annual passes so I make it a point to take my son every so often for a short trip to visit the animals. The zoo is not a clean place but with an 18 month old I've given in to the dirt and simply prepare by packing some hand wipes and a spare binky. This particular trip involved lunch given the time of day so my sister-in-law and I ordered our meals, packed my son into a high chair and started to eat. Minutes in, my son decided lunch at the zoo is only to be had while wearing two socks and one shoe. When I attempted to put his shoe back on, or take the other one off, he pitched a fit. This battle wasn't worth the tears (mine or his) so I gave in and placed the discarded shoe on the table while I continued to break up French fries and hand them to the tiny human making monkey noises next to me.
Mid-conversation with my sister, I saw my son stretching his little fingers across the empty space between him and the table and trying to get a hand on his rejected shoe. I asked him if he wanted to put it back on, to which he aggressively shook his head "no" so I returned it to the table, placing it a few inches back and out of reach.
A few seconds later, to my horror, I turned to see said shoe in my son's hands, making its way in apparent slow motion to his mouth. Apparently my shock caused a delayed reaction and before I could intercept his shoe, my son took one big lick right down the sole of it -- the sole that had been walking around a zoo filled with animals, uncaged birds and tiny humans that probably carry more germs than the first two combined.
I snatched the shoe back as quickly as possible and thrust some water in his direction but my son, who won't put half of what I try to feed him in his mouth, seemed unphased by the unpleasant mix of dirt and poo particles he had probably just consumed. Not to mention the morning consisted of a park trip in the same pair of shoes that included muddy grass and a gravel/sand pit (I don't even want to know what's in there!)
I'm pretty sure my son has since forgotten what the bottom of his shoe tasted like -- I'm sure he'll remind himself later - but I still gag a little every time I think about it. We brushed his teeth a little extra tonight. Is it still too early for mouthwash?
- N.
No comments:
Post a Comment