Armed and Dangerous

Not so long ago, but a thousand years in our time, Jack and I were off on a long weekend in Phoenix, back when we could dash off for a few days of warmth and baseball in March without taking two others, and all their gear, with us. Having lunch in a bar, or cantina as it might be called in Phoenix, we sat next to a man, a woman and a young boy, about four or five. The adults appeared to be on a date, flirting madly and paying no attention to the young boy at all. This suited him well as he was left alone to lick everything in reach of his tongue, including the nasty bar stool, the table (top and bottom), all glasses on the table and the floor, but it stopped there, the woman intervened when the child threw himself on the ground, tongue first.

And so I wonder, does this kid now have the greatest immune system in the world? Is he bettter protected than my two germ magnets against this flu madness? Early on I tried to be cool, we passed on the brightly colored fluffly grocery cart seat protector, stuck them in every restaurant high chair around (including one truly scary one at our favorite Mexican spot), exposed them to the flying petri dish frequently and thought we were doing our part in building a great wall against future germ infestation. And then they started getting sick, over and over and over.

It was time to get a little crazy. Children who ride on buses, with everyone else in the city, should wear masks, right? And maybe bubble suits? Bathe in sanitizer gel goop? Nothing was too extreme.

Now kindergarten, and a school full of germ weilding short people intent on coughing and sneezing and breathing, all in close proximity to my children, who also cough and sneeze and breathe on others. Myself included as my days spent in the library are portals to infestation. Every child I see has a a sniffle, last week one poor boy had a completley encrusted nose, and I don't really want to elaborate as it might just make me sick to think about it again, but this child was in desperate need of a very warm washcloth and a humidifier, and home.


Every day we send them off, to infection central, hoping that they have some defense against whatever floats behind closed doors. If only we had let them lick bar stools a few years ago, maybe then we'd be ahead of this game.