My Chapstick

I don’t know what it is about lip balm that my kids are so drawn to.  My guess is it’s an inclination to mimic – they see me using it and want to use it just like I do.  I wouldn’t mind this so much except they don't use it just like I do. I’d say of the 10 or so lip balms I have somewhere in my possession, half of them are bumpy, nicked up either by the kids’ teeth or their poor cap re-application and then smoothed a bit after a couple of uses by me.

To be fair, Cal used to have some poor lip balm skills but has made huge strides over the last six months or so – he manages to apply it to his lips now and usually misses his teeth in the process.  Probably the worst thing Cal does anymore is apply the lip balm to wet lips.  Ella on the other hand, is completely unskilled, hitting every bit of and in the mouth area, and a little misguided about the general purpose of lip balm.

Imagine this scene this past Sunday:  Ella, fighting a cold for a few days, had wet boogers streaming from her nose.  She headed for the nightstand next to my bed, I assume to grab a tissue to wipe her nose.  Instead of a tissue she excitedly grabbed the Chapstick I had mistakenly left out instead of putting in the drawer, safe from the abusers of it.  Nuts! Ella looked at me and smiled ear-to-ear.

A stand-off followed.  We both stood in one place, staring into each other’s eyes, both wanting that Chapstick for different reasons.  I was waiting for the right moment to make the move to take her by surprise; and she was waiting for me to make that move, ready to dart as soon as I made it. Not in the mood for a chase, I opted to use my words first.  “Ella, give me the Chapstick,” I insisted.  She only smiled a cocky smile in response.  “Ella, give me the Chapstick, please,” I said, as if adding a “please” would help the situation.  Again, she only smiled.

Before I had a chance to change my approach and just tackle her (gently), Ella had pulled the cap off of the Chapstick.  Oh, no.  For whatever reason, I was frozen in my tracks as I watched and hoped my Chapstick would not be abused.  Still smiling, she stared at me and raised the Chapstick up to her face.  “No!” I exclaimed, knowing now exactly what was about to happen.  And she did it – she drew the Chapstick to her face, directed it to the section between her nose and mouth and (gulp!) smeared my Chapstick on top of the stream of mucus that had settled in that area.  Ew! Better stated, she smeared her mucus all over my Chapstick.

The damage done, I managed to wrestle the Chapstick and cap from her death-like grip.  A frugal person to my core, I couldn’t throw it away; so I placed it in the drawer of my nightstand.  Perhaps I’d forget about the layer of mucus sitting at the top of the stick of balm and get some good use out of it.

Needless to say, I did not forget about what had happened to my Chapstick.  I needed some lip balm last night, reached for that same Chapstick in my drawer and remembered vividly Ella’s grody mishandling of it.  I pulled the cap off and slowly drew it to my lips, cringing as I did so.  And with a quick, just-get-it-over-with swipe, I applied it to my lips.  I figure the first application after the dirty deed is the worst – all others should be clear of Ella’s mucus from here on out.