I remember sitting in the bathroom with my mother while she was running me a bath. I was reading all of the labels on the soaps, bath wash and shampoos to entertain myself while I waited. Tangent: I still read labels in the bathroom when I'm bored, as does Chris: I know this because of the many lectures I've sat through about Toxic Shock Syndrome every time I attempt to purchase a box of super tampons at the grocery store. The man is incapable of purchasing anything beyond a regular tampon because of something he read in the bathroom one day. I picked up a bottle of moisturising bubble bath and began to read the label and asked my mom what the ingredients that I didn't recognize were. At five years old I thought my mom knew everything and was unaware that you need a chemistry degree to crack the ingredient codes on many household products. This was the 1980's when no one seemed to mind what chemicals they were bathing in so I can only imagine what wonderful ingredients were in some of the items we used daily. This was also and before access to search engines that would allow you to Google the answers to whatever ridiculous question your child asks you so you can maintain your status as all knowing parent a little bit longer. My mom did what any parent would, she made up her answers. One in particular is Urea: my mom told me it was shark pee and I believed her. Urea is really a chemical common in beauty products that is made up of H2N and NH2. She then went into great detail about how difficult and dangerous it was to collect the pee from sharks, so I needed to be careful not to waste it. Apparently I'd been too generous in my distribution of bubble bath for my mom's liking.
My friend has an unusual name that the baristas at Starbucks can't seem to right. Pictured above is one of the only times he was THRILLED with his mistaken identity.
Yesterday morning it was finally warm enough to wear a dress without leotards. As I put Molly's shoes on her she asked, "Momma why aren't you wearing any pants?" I explained to her that it was spring, I was wearing a dress and that I didn't need pants that day. She then attempted to take off her pants, because she didn't need them any more because it was spring. I tried to explain to her why she needed to wear pants to daycare and eventually convinced her to keep her red trousers on with minimal tears.
Clearly I have some work to do. I only have two years to develop my improv skills to the level where I can artfully mold answers to questions into lessons about why we don't waste bubble bath.
Read my opinion on why giving birth surrounded by dolphins is a bad idea