To Smell in a Handbasket

I’ve had several random similes flash through my head recently as I’ve observed behaviors and trends around my household.  These aren’t new, and have no doubt been mentioned by generations of parents before me.

Toddlers are a lot like Vampires:

I swear I cut Stella’s fingernails 3 times a week.  They grow non-stop.  And her hair?  It’s long.  Granted, I’ve fostered that by not allowing hair cuts.  But most people when they see her remark at how long it is for a 2 year old.  I dig the hair.  The nails I’m not so fond of.  For starters, she is remarkably non-compliant with having them trimmed.  That requires sitting still, you see.  She also likes to kind of pluck at me/us when she’s going to sleep.  Once the talons grow, it hurts.  And have you ever seen the funk that collects under a kid’s fingernails?  I don’t know that there are enough EPA hazardous waste codes to classify it.

In addition to their creepy growth/regenerative properties, they are FAST.  An anime/manga equivalent would be “flash stepping.”  One minute, your kid is on one side of a room/yard and when you blink they have traveled 30 feet, seemingly without moving their legs.  It’s downright eerie and seems to defy all laws of motion.

Parents/Grown-Up Caregivers are a lot like dogs:

We smell butts.  We all do it.  What’s the safest/least invasive and potentially gross method of determining if your kid needs fresh diapers and/or pants?  You lift them and smell their butts.  It’s better than sticking your finger into said diaper and potentially getting poop under your fingernail.  This requires no further discussion.

Damn it, the kids get to be the cooler character/entity.  It’s not fair.


Totally unrelated bit:  Would it be rude for me to type up a sign to hang outside of my office or around my neck which reads:

Don’t speak to me until you’ve read the following.  If you still have questions or would like to (preferably) discuss a totally different topic, by all means please proceed:

  1. C-section scheduled, 2/15.
  2. Yes, I’m ready for him to come out but no, I don’t necessarily want him to come out early and blow the plan.
  3. Yes, I know my stomach is huge.
  4. Yes, I know I look tired.
  5. No, I will NOT be having another baby.  I’m taking heroic measures to prevent it.
  6. It’s a boy and I don’t know his name yet.



About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
This entry was posted in Parenting, pregnancy and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to To Smell in a Handbasket

  1. Ann Sanders says:

    On the unrelated bit…absolutely not! My last week of work consisted of conversations very similar to that with EVERY customer. Be grateful you don’t work with the public!

  2. Boss says:

    You forgot #7. Don’t you have something more important to do, like work?!

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