Kids Say the Darndest Things

Do them, too.

Late summer, about 30 years ago, a cat was abandoned in my sister-in-law’s neighborhood.  We’d been visiting outside next to the car one evening while our children played on the grass.  The cat, having been in the area for a few days, came around, hopped in the car, seemed friendly enough, and found a new home at our place.  The boys named him Hobbes, after their beloved Calvin and Hobbes’ comic strip.

A few weeks later, as the chill of fall set in, we began using the central heat to take the edge off the cool mornings.  Of course, those first few times running the heat puts the usual odor of burning dust in the air.  But this time it was accompanied by the unmistakable smell of urine.

Now, I will never be accused of being a clean freak, but my house has never smelled like a gas station bathroom! 

Mr. Sensitive Nose himself immediately began pointing fingers at Hobbes.  And had he been found guilty, he would have immediately become an outside only cat.  But one simple fact spared him:  even Mr. Sensitive Nose had to concede that it didn’t smell like cat urine.

Redoubled efforts at cleaning bathrooms, carpets, everything did nothing to mitigate the odor, which curiously only manifested in the morning and evening.  And then the wheels of my memory started turning.

Several years prior to that, a good friend shared a hysterical story from her acquaintance, a woman who was known as a clean freak, and who had the exact same thing happen to her.  It just took her a lot longer to identify the source. 

Her young son, about five-years-old and fully potty-trained, realized that if he went to the heater vent conveniently located behind the couch, he didn’t have to wait for a commercial break when he was watching cartoons.  The makeshift urinal served him well until the day his mother caught him in the act. 

With that memory, I realized immediately that the Professor had been doing the same.  Boys!

Of course, that has nothing to do with medicine, except maybe understanding the mindset of little boys and properly training them, which may have bearing on cleanliness.

Recently, Buttercup shared a story from her friend, who also happens to have a little boy about five-years-old.  He got a minor cut on his finger, his mom cleaned it up, used a little triple antibiotic on it, and bandaged it well.  A couple of days later while playing, he whacked that same finger on the wall and immediately cried out.  Blood and pus had spurted out.  His mom removed the bandage and observed that the finger was horribly infected.  Off to urgent care.  A round of antibiotics, and the wound improves.  Finish the antibiotics, and the infection returns.  Four rounds of antibiotics and temporary wound improvement later, and the boy develops a rash, so now probiotics are advised in addition to the antibiotics.  And finally—finally—the wound heals. 

A few weeks pass, and this boy, proud of his resourcefulness, begins a conversation with his mom.  “You know how you are always asking about whether I wash after going to the bathroom and I show you my wet hands?  I swish them in the toilet.”

I hadn’t planned on sharing this story when I first heard it, but it’s what I woke up to at 12:30 this morning, mind racing again for who knows what reason.  So I wrote it in my head for 45 minutes and then gave up and got up to share it with you.  I am sure that some of the things I write will only benefit one reader, and this is one of them. 

I believe there are lessons we try to teach all of our children, but some don’t get the message for whatever reason.  Like Professor swears I never told him he had to finish the entire bottle of antibiotics and not quit taking them as soon as he felt better (and he was an adult when this happened).  Of course, there are some things we never think to teach, like don’t convert the heater vent into a makeshift urinal and don’t wash hands in the toilet.  And maybe I’m the only one who didn’t realize that the obvious needed to be vocalized with my sons. 

So for all of you who won’t need this info, I apologize for wasting your time.  For the one reader this may someday benefit, you’re welcome.  I hope to go back to sleep soon.