41. Drink Gross Stuff

So we arrive at the final installment of our “gross” series, following up Eat Gross Stuff and Touch Gross Stuff

Actually, who am I kidding?  There is zero chance that my boys will not create an entire new category of gross interaction within the next twelve to twenty-four months, at which point I’ll be forced to document it.  But for now, we’ll end with the drinking of the gross stuff.  And it doesn’t matter – if it’s nasty, no problem.  Boys will still chug it like a dehydrated man handed a cold Gatorade in the middle of the desert.

Strangely, however, watching boys drink gross stuff is not the worst problem we face here. The worst problem is that boys are fearlessly willing to contaminate anyone else’s drink by slamming a sip of it whenever they wander by.  Usually this means YOUR drink.  Boys have no boundaries.  One moment your perfectly chilled sweet tea is resting safely on the end table, delicately squeezed lemon slice floating in a sublime blend…then you turn back to find your glass half empty, sweaty, greasy lip marks smeared across the rim, and gritty sand residue stuck all over the outside.

Somewhere in the back yard, a boy is sucking on a lemon wedge.  See how that works? Basically, any beverage within reach is considered fair game by boys.

The problem occurs when you allow yourself to ponder all the gross stuff that runs through the boy’s mouth, and the very likely scenario that some of it ran through there right before he violated your tea.  Here are just a few of the classic gross drinks from my boys:

Bathtub water.  Really, is this surprising to anyone?  Grossest thing ever, yet I have so far failed in every effort to convince boys of this fact.  Recent failures include me yelling at chipmunk-cheeked boy who just emerged from underwater scuba tub adventure: “DO YOU REALIZE WHAT IS IN YOUR MOUTH??? THAT WATER IN YOUR MOUTH JUST FLOATED RIGHT BY YOUR BROTHER’S HINEY BEFORE YOU DRANK IT.  YOU ARE DRINKING HINEY WATER!!!”  No response.  Boy spits stream at brother and goes back under to hunt for sunken dinosaur sponges.

Randomly discarded sports drinks.  One day Nathan wandered through the house drinking a red Gatorade.  “Where did you get that?” I said.  “In the yard.”  Oh perfect. Someone’s drive-by discard of the last 20% of their beverage near our shrubs last night results in Nathan’s best morning ever.  “Heeeeeyyyy!  It’s my lucky day!”

Neighborhood wastewater.  It was all fun and games one day when we did the “let the boys play in the rain” thing in the front yard.  Until I looked out the window to find all three of them on hands and knees, lapping up a cool drink from the inch-deep river rushing down the storm gutter next to our curb.  Outstanding.  Every fertilizer, bird poop, dog pee, and pesticide within a four block radius…  Refreshing!

And now back to your tea…  Yeah.  Toss that junk out.
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11 thoughts on “41. Drink Gross Stuff

  1. I don’t like my milk thick or curdled, otherwise, it’s fair game. I might use the same cup for 3 days.
    I guess I’m an overgrown boy and hate to wash the dishes!! 🙂

    • oooh, good one. (bad one, really, but you know…) We went to the popular public pool last summer and I swear it felt like I might as well have been dipping in the sewage treatment plant. LOVE a sip of that stuff. 🙂

  2. I’m very glad to say – my boys apparently are missing this gene. They do… or did have a habit of drinking out of my cups, which grosses me out to no-end, until they each had taken a turn (at different times) of accidentally drinking big swigs of wine. They ask first now!

  3. When Aaron was little he drank fish tank water on a dare from a set of older brothers. Eventually he decided it wasn’t that bad and would drink it at night if he got thirsty instead of walking 15 feet to the sink across the hall.

  4. So I have a 21-month-old little boy who is already nuts and hasn’t even begun to do all the crazy things you blog about…but last week, while my son was taking his bath…(I’m sure you can see where this is going) my brother-in-law called to tell me that they had to put their dog down. So here I am trying to be all sympathetic on the phone, and the child starts drinking the water. All I can think of is hiney water, so I’m giving the death-whisper, “Clayton. Quit drinking the bath water!” while telling my BIL that I’m sorry about their dog. Meanwhile, Clayton, who either doesn’t yet “get” the death-whisper or doesn’t find the threat too scary, looks up, grins at me, and goes back down for more. And that’s when I realize it…I’m doomed. The boy is now entering a whole new phase of childhood–the one in which I learn first-hand the stuff boys do. Thanks for preparing me at least little!

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