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Some raisins are not for eating November 22, 2006

Posted by clumsyraine in Food, NaBloPoMo, Shootin' the breeze, step-munchkin.

A day or two ago, I left Olivia in the bathtub longer than I normally do because I was straightening up the bathroom and the sink area just outside the bathroom door while Harry was straightening up the closet and changing the cat boxes, and it was nice to have her safely out of the way. (I was only like 3 feet away from her, of course; we have a really small apartment.) She was quite pruny when she got out, but figuring she wouldn’t be as likely to know what a prune was, when I saw her examining her wrinkly fingers I told her they looked like raisins.

She cocked her head slightly, then slowly stuck her index finger in her mouth and sucked on it a little.

“It doesn’t taste like a raisin?” she said quizzically.

I was too busy quieting the huge snort that almost escaped to remember the rest of that conversation.


When I had pulled the fourth or so pan of pumpkin chocolate chip cookies (Go now! Make them! They are awesome!) from the oven, and reminded Olivia for the four hundredth or so time do. not. touch. It. Is. HOT., she reached up and jabbed a finger at the cookie sheet.

In the few seconds it took for her to register the pain through the shock, I had already spun around and grabbed a medicine cup from the drainer, and poured some ice cold water from the bottle I had on the counter into it, and stuck her finger in it.

(Is that anywhere near the right thing to do? I know cold water is what I want when I burn myself… which is fairly often because I’m a clutz in the kitchen… but really, I have no clue…).

While she quieted the sobs that had started to build, I hugged her for a minute and explained that the cool water would help keep it from hurting. Once she was still sniffling but reasonably calm, I went back to spooning cookies onto the next pan. She was standing on her step-stool next to me, and I watched out of the corner of my eye as she would pull her finger out every couple of minutes, look at it until she began to mutter “ow, ow ow” and place it back into the cup.

I got distracted, probably swapping cooked cookie pans from the oven for raw ones, so I wasn’t looking at her when she exclaimed,

“Don’t eat it!!!”

I froze. “Don’t eat what???”

“My finger. It might look like a raisin, but you CANNOT eat it.”


Update from the fair maiden:

I must reitterate the plug for Zicam. For the first year or so we started keeping Olivia during the weekends down here, I would get really awfully sick for like a week afterwards almost every single time. Usually it would start as a plain-cold-like monster, and would usually morph into either a sinus-infection- or chest-cold-like monster by the time it was over.

I finally got really overly anal about refusing to drink from a bottle she drank from (if she took a drink from my water bottle, for example, I would mark an O on the lid and go get a new one) or eat from a utensil she had used, and though I felt really bad because being a typical kid, she’s always wanting to share, it kept me froom getting sick for nearly a year.

Earlier in the week, she took a drink from my bottle. I put it off to the side, but forgot to mark it with the requisite O. A little while later, I absent mindedly reached for a drink, and knew instantly what I had done because my bottle was fresh and cold, and hers was room temperature. I spit the drink back and dumped the bottle, but apparently that was all it took. It’s ridiculous!

Anyway, back to Zicam. When I woke up yesterday I felt rotten. I remembered we had some Zicam we bought on our San Antonio/Sea World vacation back in March – Harry got sick the 2nd day we were there, so that’s what we picked up. I couldn’t remember how well it worked because he’s not much for showing how sick he feels anyway, but I did remember how rancid he said it tasted. But all the propaganda from the commercials, “Zicam saved my vacation/wedding day/etc!” floated through my head and I said what the hey.

It really didn’t taste that bad to me. I hate taking pills, I guess I’m weird, but I’ll reach for liquid Robitussin/Nyquil/Dayquil etc first if I can. The cherry flavored Zicam wasn’t as strong as most of those, so one hurdle down. This was at 5am; we took Harry to work, and I put Livi back to bed and fell back into bed myself. I woke up about 9 and she was still asleep – and instantly I realized my throat was almost back to normal. Slightly swollen, but it didn’t hurt at all.

The head congestion wasn’t affected as drastically – it broke up a little bit more each time I used it, but I was still pretty foggy headed by the end of the day, althought my throat felt perfect by then. I was amazed. I’m used to being stuffed up, I’ve had hay fever/allergies forever; but having my throat back to normal is a big deal with my asthma.

Between taking the Zicam all day yesterday, and a mega-dose of Nyquil when I went to bed last night, I was bright eyed and bushy-tailed when we got up at 5 this morning to take him to work. Still stuffed up, but not foggy or hurting at all.

Long (loooong) story short: I’m in love with Zicam, and it will be the first thing I use next time (heaven forbid)!



1. I need a muse. « clumsyraine - November 27, 2006

[…] When Harry went back to work on Friday, I sent a large pan of leftover cookies and brownies and some of my mom’s fudge with him. The pumpkin cookies went lickety-split, and he got several recommendations that we sell them in the coming weeks. So, even though it sounds like lunacy to me, I guess we’re selling pumpkin cookies. […]

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