The Vaseline Incident

Although the title is ‘The Vaseline Incident’, that would really be like calling Death Valley ‘warm' -- or the Titanic a ‘rowboat’.

Since I got laid off at the beginning of April, there have been a lot of adjustments to being a stay at home dad. Our little Clairey is the crown ninja of home destruction. She finds and breaks things I didn’t even know we had and turns our house completely upside down à la Tasmanian Devil, all in less time than it takes to toast a piece of bread. And don’t even think about going to the bathroom unless she’s taking a nap!

Part of pursuing a law enforcement career involves doing little things to gain a competitive edge over your fellow candidates. So, I am taking a remedial Spanish class to refresh my skills so I feel more comfortable putting it on a resume. But, this is the eeeeaaaaaasssssyyyyy Spanish. I took Spanish in high school and studied/taught Spanish on my mission- but no certifiable formal training. This week I had a mid-term test, part of which was the geography of all of the Spanish speaking countries in the world (there are 22- with the US being the second most Spanish speaking country by populous, more than any country other than Mexico.), something I have never really studied. To most Americans (I’ll half raise my hand here), all of the Latin American countries are mere appendages to Mexico, I would be surprised if many people could name more than about 10. Go ahead and try. So, what part of Mexico is Guatemala in anyway? :)

Back to the Vaseline Incident. While I was studying for my test, I started to get that feeling every parent gets from time to time, the ‘it’s been a little too quiet for a little too long’ feeling. Imagine my delight as I opened her bedroom door to discover this: 

And this: And when I took the jar away, this:

I could hardly stop laughing long enough to decide what to do. Clairey has very sensitive skin, so the doctor recommended putting the Vaseline on the worst spots. You really need to click on them and zoom in to gain appreciation of the carnage.

They say that Sir Robert Chesebrough, the inventor of Vaseline, used to eat a spoonful of it every day because he believed in his product and its healing powers so much. He did live to be 96, although I’m not sure how much he ate of the Equate Brand Fresh Scented variety. Judging by the jar that Claire ate, I’m guessing she will be alive well into her 200’s, and the layers she applied to her face, hands, eyes and hair should preserve her supple, baby soft skin for many of those years.

So, after a precursory wipe down and a feeble attempt to clean the carpet, I went ahead and tossed her in the shower; which was about as useful as trying to rinse the scales off a fish. If they ever decide the adage “water off a ducks back” could use some updating, I may have just the replacement. The water from the shower beaded up on her like the wax that costs the extra $2 at the car wash. 

What's funny to me is that the seemingly endless pounds of Vaseline that glopped her tiny face, almost to the point she could no longer open her eyes- didn't seem to matter to her a bit. Nor did the fact that trying to stand in the shower was about like Bambi trying to find legs on a frozen pond. Only the fact that I took the slimy jar away from her bothered her!

I shampoed her hair 4 times in an effort to reclaim it, Elizabeth tried again with dishwashing soap. I think we'll just have to let it work itself out naturally, and in the mean time she'll just have to keep that used car salesman shine.

Lesson learned. Lock all doors, hide all the fun stuff out of reach, and for heaven sake never study Spanish again!