Becoming a parent gives you amazing opportunities to pick. Pick nursery colors, pick adoption agencies, pick strollers, pick preschools.
The AMAZING thing is when you realize that, there are so many better things to pick, and they're on your baby.
Imagine my delight when I discovered my daughter had THE WORST CASE OF CRADLE CAP I'D EVER SEEN! The world was my oyster, and we would sit in front of Baby Einstein (it was my first kid, OK?), she captivated at the creepy nail-laquered hand holding the car keys in front of the baby, and me, going to town on that stuff like I was Oprah and the cradle cap was my staff after they forgot to put that picture of me camping with Gayle on the front of "O" magazine.
Once I babysat for this family who had a little boy, six months old or so. The cradle cap on this kid was TO. DIE. FOR. I sat there, picking all that dead skin off as he slept, imagining what an amazing thing I was doing for all the world - NAY, for mankind! I nearly wept at the beauty of it, of all I was accomplishing.
An hour later, when he was still asleep and after the high of the picking had died down, I was frantically trying to figure out a way to make his head look less...well, PICKED.
Johnson's Baby Lotion.
"Wow, he sure smells nice!" his parents proclaimed.
"Wow! I did my good deed for the day!" I proclaimed, inside my head.
When my husband and I first got engaged I went into a health food store for some DHA Omega 3's and a can of coconut milk and came out with ear candles.
He was still at the "I'm trying to impress her stage", SO HE LET ME PUT A BURNING CANDLE IN HIS EAR. WITH WAX DRIPPING DOWN IT.
I know. Probably not the smartest.
Oh, the glory of those first few dates.
Let's just say that my husband has more wax than the Basilica on Papal Coronation day.
"Don't you find this disgusting?" he murmurs, as I urge him to be quiet, for there's a big wad of wax juuuuuuust beyond my reach...
"No, honey. It actually really makes me happy, because then you can hear me when I'm yelling at you to come home for the day instead of going to Hooters."
"I think the last time I was at Hooters I was bussing tables."