Where Hair Does Not Belong

It was a beautiful day; the kind of day that made you want to stay at home and play outside until the streetlights came on.  Unfortunately this mommy and her family were packed into their vehicle and headed to gymnastics.

Sunday afternoon gymnastics at 1 p.m. had seemed like a good idea at the time of registration.  As the weeks had worn on, though, and the weather had gotten progressively warmer, Sunday afternoon gymnastics at 1 p.m. was an obligation that I resented.

Now I must tell you, my children are the type that like to play outside ALL OF THE TIME!  To take a break to tend to a bodily necessity - such as eating - would never occur to them.  This was clearly another lesson that I, as their mother, had failed to teach them – when the family needs to be somewhere just after noon, we stop playing beforehand and eat lunch.

As our vehicle neared the highway I knew that it would not be long before the children, who had again chosen play over food, would start to complain about being hungry.  “There’s food in that bag between you guys,” I proactively yelled into the backseat, “cheese, crackers, bear paws, juice boxes.”   

After a few minutes had passed my son said, “Mommy I just picked up some cheese and it had a hair on it.  And you know what?” 

No, I did not know “what” and I had no interest in finding out “what”. 

Over the years I had discovered that there were several kid-common-occurrences that I could tolerate that others could not – vomit, diarrhea, eyelids flipped inside-out, the occasional pick-your-nose-and-eat-it.  Hair, however, was not one of those things.  Even if it turned out to be my own, the thought of hair in any place other than where it should be caused me to shudder.

“Well,” my young son jabbered on, “I ate it and it was yummy.”

“Okay.”  I could only manage that one-word-answer as I felt the bile start to creep up my throat.  And I was shocked as that was not what I had expected my son to say. But Brennen wasn’t finished – he had another insight that he wanted to share.

“So if you’re eating something Mommy and it has hair on it, you should keep eating it and not stop because it’s yummy.”

As quick as possible I pinched my nose shut to silence the snort that threatened to rip forth.   My husband, who was driving, refused to look at me.  I saw him bite down hard on his lip, however, in what I guessed was an attempt to not sputter or choke.

Now I must tell you, I know that my son’s advice was heartfelt and innocent and pure.  That knowledge, however, did not stop these three ‘truths’ from popping into this mommy’s mind:

1. My husband is of German descent,

2. I like to eat sausage, but

3. Under no circumstances do I like sauerkraut!

Bon Appétit!