The Toddler Chronicles, No. 3
Two of the big things I’ve learned repeatedly the hard way while working EMS and in the ER are 1) Never pass up an opportunity to pee, and 2) Always have an extra set of gloves. If I had to list a bonus thing, it would be to wear shorts under your primary pants. If I had to list a secondary bonus item, it would be to keep an extra set of work clothes with you.
But I digress.
Anyway, I was migrating items from one backpack into another backpack a couple of days ago and whilst migrating all of my treasures, I was purging things that I don’t really use, need, or are excessively redundant. During this process, I relocated approximately eight pairs of extra sets of nitrile gloves that had been liberated into my backpack over time.
Those 16-ish gloves were sitting in a pile on the table waiting to be relocated and Lyla saw them from her vantage point in the high chair while she was finishing up dinner. I don’t know what she was eating, but the end result of that meal was a very gooey face and hands that made a squishing noise not dissimilar from the one a pot of mac and cheese makes as it’s stirred. I know this to be fact because she was wringing her hands and fingers together, intentionally creating that noise while saying “yucky yucky yucky.”
Generally, in such a situation, Gabby and I will wipe off her hands and escort her to the tub for bath time, except for this time.
This time I had a pile of gloves and Gabby was already upstairs finishing Charlotte’s bath.
I helped Lyla glove up each hand. It was adorable and she was thrilled to be wearing size medium blue nitrile gloves. She was even more thrilled to run upstairs to the bathroom to show it to Mom, still with the gooey face and hidden gooey hands. And I was thrilled to go back to organizing my backpack treasures and to let Gabby clean up that mess of a toddler.
Gabby was finishing drying Charlotte off as we entered, and I basically said, “This is great timing! Here’s the ginger one with new gloves and I’m going to finish my super-important-only-to-me backpack stuff that isn’t actually important and you can bathe this sticky monster.”
It was an excellent plan until Gabby was like, “Uno Reverse! I need to feed the small one and you don’t have the feminine hardware like I do to facilitate that.”
That sticky ginger whippersnapper went the entire bath with those gloves on and refused to take them off.
I informed the nearly-clean ginger that I needed to clean her hands and that I would get her a new pair of gloves once she was out of the tub and in her pajamas. She matter-of-factly responded with “No.” And I, being the responsible parent that I am and knowing what nutritional gelatinous mess lied beneath that thin nitrile barrier, removed those gloves.
And then the world ended. It legitimately imploded, caught, on fire and ended, just like it did at the end of that awful Knowing movie with Nicholas Cage. Oh, spoiler alert for what’s arguably the worst end-of-the-world movie that has ever been made.
At least that is what everyone would have been led to believe if they were going by Lyla’s perceived experience.
That meltdown lasted roughly 3 minutes, which is how long it took for me to dry her off, stuff her into pajamas, and retrieve another pair of gloves from the pile on the table. At that point in time, all was made okay-ish in the universe again.
And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you should always bring a second pair of gloves.