So for those of you who find yourselves shaking your heads at the magnitude of your children’s imaginations for mischief, let me assure you that you are not alone. Nor are the adventures limited to the wee ones.
I finally, after having found a relative time marker to the problem, took a really good look at a ‘blemish’ that has been festering on the nose of one of my daughters. (While I am not into shaming any particular child online, I also worry that T and M will squirm at the insinuation that one of them could do something this, um, ill-advised.) Anyway, this blemish has been a part of our family for at least a week that I can measure – probably more like 2-3 weeks. (Hey, this is not the only major issue on my plate right now – don’t judge.) Not only does it not seem to be healing, but seems to be getting bigger. My sense of humour and the rampant stream of swallowed smart-ass comments have now taken a back seat to concern for her health.
With bright light and good reading glasses on, I ventured near enough to see that the issue of note is indeed quite a hole and somewhat infected. Liquid concealer has not been kind. I do a quick search of the entire face to try to get a handle on the overall problem. Nothing out of the ordinary for a young teenaged visage. But, wait, when the heck did you double pierce your ears? While I’m here, let’s talk about that – they don’t look too good.
I am distracted by what turns out to be a self-inflicted attempt at personal decor that didn’t work out too well. Mmm hmm. That should teach you. Get some rubbing alcohol on those ears and clean them up.
And get a hot cloth on that thing on your nose and see if you can steam it up a little.
I chuckle as I make myself a tea. Reminds me of the day she shaved off an eyebrow. Silly girl.
Then the realization strikes.
Wait a minute.
Hey, kid. Come here.
Now I want you to think carefully before answering – and don’t even think about lying to me.
Is there any chance that thing on your nose is cause by a failed attempt at a piercing?
I swear I could see the thought-bubbles bursting around her head as her brain worked feverishly, ‘Terminator’ style, to sort through the possible responses to my question.
Bite lip. Harder. Pain. Blood. Do. Not. Laugh.
(Follow long lecture re: dirty needles, infections, self-mutilation, permission vs. forgiveness, and threats of some very nasty medical procedures.)
So then, daughter. While I’ve been trying to hold my witty tongue from all of the unkind comments whirling through my mind these past few weeks, the gloves are now off. And you, Nanny McPhee, are about to experience some uncomfortable consequences.
It’s days like this that even up the score board a bit. Mwaa haa haa!!