Tonight I was putting Amelia to bed. She had injured herself at a picnic and remarked upon how well the Motrin had worked. "How does it work, Mommy?" she asked. "Well, it inhibits prostaglandin synthesis and reduces inflammation so you feel less pain," I replied. I swear this is the only thing I remember from an entire semester of pharmacology. "Ok, I understood about 50% of what you said," she groused. This seemed like a high estimate to me. So I explained what inflammation was and she was satisfied with my Level I explanation (Bill and I used to have a system where we would actually specify to each other what level of detail we wanted when we asked each other for explanations about various phenomena -- such geeks!).
After singing her lullabies, I moved all her clean clothes into a pile so that she could put them away when she woke up. "Mom," she called out from her pillow, "What do you do when you have a booger in your nose and you can't get it out?" I got hysterical. "What? I'm serious." I always answer questions as honestly as possible. "Sometimes, honey, you just have to go in and get it out."
As I closed her blinds to make sure the early morning sun doesn't wake up my early bird any sooner than absolutely necessary I thought to myself, "Boy, it' a good thing I am still here."
I promise to try and say something of substance tomorrow. For now, good night y'all.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
1 comment:
Children ask the greatest questions.
When we once chastised our 7 y.o. for picking her nosed, she very calmly explained that one of her boogers itched and she was merely scratching it.
Post a Comment