Malibu, Ca.
So, the kids and I are driving home from the beach the other day and we see a car from Vermont. We call out the plate (as we do, we call out all out-of-state plates), discuss the merits of color and juxtaposition on the plate and are about to thank the fellow for his tourist dollars when we notice him digging in his ears. A second later, he either sniffed what he dug out or ate it. We couldn't tell because of the angle of our cars.
We all squeal and giggle, ha ha, and are about to pass it off as a trick of the light (because he couldn't really be sniffing his ear wax, right?) when he does it again.
Ok, this is serious then. We gather ourselves together and sit for a moment in quiet contemplation over what this means for ourselves and the world around us when it occurs to me that hey, maybe this guy knows something we don't. Vermont is a pretty healthy state, right? The trees are pretty healthy, anyway. Maybe ear wax has magical healing properties we don't know of.
I suggest this to the kids, who have left quiet contemplation behind in favor of seeing who can remember the most disgusting body fluid story. As they contemplate this for a moment, I realize that this is a perfect opportunity for me to role-model good behavior for the kids. I can teach them, through my actions, to try new things. I'll have braver, more confident children!
I reach into my ear, ready to sacrifice all for the good of the kids, but the volume of their screams tell me that, however they may feel the rest of the time, they need no magical healing properties today and in any case don't seem ready to appreciate my sacrifice. Little bastards.
My ear itched the whole way home, too.
