Over the past year, the kids have made no less than a thousand Rainbow Loom bracelets. I could be Mr. T with rubber band jewelry. Michael is especially prolific; it would be easier to list the things he can’t make with his Rainbow Loom. Necklaces, rings, flowers, candy canes, Christmas trees, teddy bears, pencil grips… that’s just the tip of the iceberg, the entry-level stuff. We’ve spent a fortune on rubber bands. But if I put money in their college funds, I’d have bare wrists, and I’m wearing two gorgeous inverted-fishtail bracelets as I type this. I prefer the fishtail to the hexafish and starburst varieties. If you would like to place an order with my children, please do so. I recommend being precise about color preferences though. When given creative license, my artists tend to concoct big, jumbled things that clash horribly.
My kids rarely do what I ask after a single asking. It often takes two, three, four reps to get any kind of acknowledgement, answer, or movement. Naturally, I suspect talking to them about this might be inadequate. So... I was thinking some unpleasant ear cleanings are in order. I could drip that oily wax remover into young ear canals. It’s an actual health product and treatment. Barring quackery. Which could be rampant in ear care, for all I know. At a minimum, it is not torture. I think. I hope the authorities agree. Alas, I won’t do it, although I’ve put myself through this ‘treatment’ before. It felt very uncomfortable and unnatural, and in the end I decided that age – or not enough silence in my life – was to blame for any dampening of my auditory system. But the fact remains, whether dirty or dusty with disuse (I realize that second one makes zero sense), I need to resuscitate some ears that aren't my own! I need to rattle some eustachian tubes. Or brains. Or attitudes. Or something!
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