My daughter has an antibiotic she’s been taking for several weeks now. This is the one her dermatologist decided to go with for twenty-eight days to see how it would affect the lumps on her bottom. So far, so good—there are no new bumps and the existing ones have diminished in size or possibly disappeared. I say possibly on that last part because getting my daughter to sit still to mark and count the bumps was an exercise we decided to avoid, given everything she’s having to deal with, medically speaking.
Back to the medicine though, which is a pink liquid that needs to be taken twice a day. In the past, these medicines delivered in the form of pink liquids have been met with cries of, “it’s yucky!” I would smell them and would get the scent of cherries or strawberry or even watermelon one time I think. They smelled fine, but regardless of smell, taste or mental stance against it, she wasn’t always eager to take her medicine.
This stuff, however, she loves. My husband got it originally and I don’t know if he had a choice in flavor or if it just came as is, but I want to find out and then request it for future medications. I thought I’d be able to tell what scent/flavor it was by smelling it like I had the other medicines. When I smelled this one though I got an entirely different scent than I expected. Yes, there was something fruity there, but it was nonspecific and I couldn’t place it. What I did get was an overwhelming sense of the beauty parlors my mother had her hair done in when I was a child.
Strange, no? Medicine for a child that tastes like the chemical smell at a beauty parlor from forty years ago? You would think that wouldn’t be a particularly popular flavor. I thought something was amiss, but the next day I got the same reminiscent smell from my childhood with visions of ladies in rollers with their heads under the dryers looking at magazines.
I don’t know what the chemical, mineral or compound connection is, but through the powers of our amazing nose and brain, my mind is remembering something out of time through the medium of smell.
The Big Boy Update: My son and daughter weren’t agreeing on something this morning—I forget what about. My son was trying not to get in trouble by saying something mean, but he did need to express how he felt so he settled on this sentence: “I don’t like my sister ‘cause she’s solid.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter started screaming, “HELP!” this evening from the swing set in the back yard. I looked out and saw she had managed to get herself stuck in the middle of one of the trapeze rings. They’re adult-sized rings I adapted to fit where a swing would go. She’s a small little girl, but I didn’t think she could get her head, shoulders and torso through the ring. On second thought, it could have been feet, legs and hips—that makes more sense. Regardless of how, she was stuck and her jacket was preventing her from getting out as it bunched up. I ran down to her cries of, “get me out of here!” and easily pulled her upwards. She was quite cross…for about thirty seconds…and then went back to playing.
The Tumbler Update: We opened the tumbler today to see how it was going. Folks, it looked good! The rocks were smoothing out and we could even see some nice striations and colors in a few of them. We put the lid back on and restarted it. On Sunday tumble phase one is complete. I am kicking myself for not taking a pre-tumble picture of our craggy lot of rocks.
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