I've officially sunk to a new low in parenting...and I'm sinking even lower by blogging about it. What happened? I'll tell ya. Dave wanted my big guy to go help him set up some HUGE screens for a meeting. The kid would've made some pretty good cash if he'd said "yes". Well, cut to the end of the story, I went with Dave to do the set-up. I like to think I'm better help anyway, at least I smell like a girl, sorta, which is a bonus, right? Anyway, I should let you in on what transpired to create a change in Dave's labor force.
Insert photo of me hanging my head in embarrassment here.
Big guy: "Mom, I don't want to go help dad."
Me: "Go help dad, you need the money."
Big guy: "No I don't, I have money."
Me: "I know, but you'll need money in the near future."
Big guy: "I'll let you squeeze two of my blackheads if you'll go help dad instead of me."
I know, I know, disgusting, right? But, the truth is, sometimes I think I missed my calling by not being a wound care specialist. I'm not one to gross out on an abscess on my dog, a huge pus-filled spider bite on my kid's knee, I even do fine with a little gangrene on my cat. Seriously, the ickier, the better. There's just something about it that appeals to me.
Side note #1: I LOVED studying parasites during college and took any opportunity to research and write about them. I still google them on occasion if I need a parasitic fix.
Side note #2: I totally passed out, literally hit the pavement, when I took my little guy to a doctor friend to see if the really large gash over his eye required stitches. My friend was opening the wound and looking all around on the inside, and down I went, completely boneless. When I regained consciousness, I was told that yes, he did indeed need stitches. Guess I prefer pus, et al, to open lacerations. We all have our limits, right?
So, to wrap this tale up, yes, I did take care of those two blackheads, and yes, I did help Dave with his set-up. It was a win win thing!