My sister never shaves her legs, or if she does, it’s infrequent enough that stripping away her pale brown leg-fur must leave her with the same feeling a hermit crab has when it leaves one shell in search of another.
So it’s a toss-up if the lone razor from her medicine cabinet has never been used, or if it’s the same one she’s been using since 1986. In any case, my heart lurched sickeningly and the adrenaline began flooding when my little girl burst out of the bathroom, running that razor down her face and shouting, “Look mommy, I’m shaving!”
I had visions of my child with a face-full of prickly stubble, or a long trip to the emergency room for the purpose of reattaching swaths of her face. Unexpected stubble or dozens of stitches–those were the fates I feared.
After I realized that the razor still wore its thin plastic cap, my heart subsided back into my chest. I gave the little one a matched set of lectures, pulled out from the collective consciousness of mommies the world over: First, the lecture called Don’t Play with Razors! and then, the lecture known as It’s Not Nice to Look in Other People’s Medicine Cabinets!
My family laughed with holiday good cheer at the child’s antics, but with my propensity for worry, I could not be content to laugh it off. I had to wonder what other lessons I’ve not provided to her.
Given the number of children living here, it’s perhaps no wonder that the day is typically more consumed with please eat your bagel–it’s time for school–whose socks are those–pick up your toys–did someone feed the cats–where’s your library book–get your finger out of your nose–where’s the baby–if you need to play with your bottom please go to your room–what the hell am I stepping in–time to turn off the tv–and finally–oh my God did you poop again???
I’m often long on directives and short on life-lessons.
Have I thoroughly covered Treat Others the Way You Want to Be Treated? Did we spend enough time on Don’t Go Anywhere without Telling Your Mother? How about If Someone Tries to Touch You in a Way that Makes You Feel Icky, Tell Someone? Have I covered all these topics?
I’m fairly certain that I’ve covered Don’t Eat the Yellow Snow at least.
But the others, oh the others. Are they ever covered enough? If the child thinks it’s ok to rummage around in medicine cabinets not her own, the answer to that question is more than clear.
