MichMoms Blog

Category: Behavior

The apple, apparently, does not fall far from the tree

I think most people have experienced little red flags that pop up in the back of their heads. Most of the time, these are inconsequential and sometimes they are huge. My flag system is pretty highly attuned and it routinely alerts me to minor infractions that usually come to fruition when I ignore them.

However, the other day my flag system must have been temporarily out of order.

My 6-year-old came upstairs from the basement bathroom and announced, "I got some poop on my finger so I used hand sanitizer to clean it."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, gingah," I replied. "Hand sanitizer is only used when no soap and water is available. Give me your hands; let's get those squeaky clean with some soap and water right now." We cleaned up and I didn't think twice about that.

This morning I went downstairs to take a shower when I noticed four or five thin brown streaks on the shower door. I gasped suddenly as I realized just what those brown streaks were. I heard my kid's voice echoing in my head, "I got some poop on my finger; I got some poop on my finger ..."

Why is it that when a child's finger contains a mass of unwanted material -- such as feces or gooey nasal mucus -- the first instinct is to wipe it on any hard surface within arm's reach? Naturally, the second instinct is to deny it at all cost.

I must admit, as a child I was not above the same behavior. Let's jump in the Way Back Machine and travel to the year that was 1976. I was a mere lass of 8 and invited to my first sleepover birthday party.

It was night time, we had all of our sleeping bags out on the floor of her parent's basement and were getting ready for bed. The lights were out and we were playing some sort of game.

Strangely enough, I just remembered the awesome new pajamas my mom bought me for that party. They were very patriotic in red, white and blue stripes (surely a tie-in to the bicentennial the United States was celebrating that year) and it was a long one-piece granny dress with eyelet lace on the bib part up near my chin.

Now that you have a complete visual, let us get back to the action.

The game involved the lights going out, some sort of activity and then the lights came back on. It was during the lights out part that I took the opportunity to relieve my nose of some particularly huge dried nasal mucus that was bothering me.

In the dark, I fished out the booger and, because I was an arm's length away from the dark wood paneling in my friend's basement, I wiped my finger on the wall and returned my hand to my side.

I thought I was golden, as it were. How would anyone ever know I was the owner of that green, crusty excretion? When the lights came back on, someone noticed and all fingers pointed at me. What could I do but vehemently deny all knowledge of said excretion? I never did admit it. I just held tight to my assertion that it must have been there all the time and I was simply a victim of circumstance. No one believed me. And, if I recall correctly, I never did attend another sleepover party during my youth. I guess that stuff about karma really is true after all.