Yesterday, I received an email from a concerned parent in Bun Bun’s class requesting a cease and desist on the forwarding of disturbing chain letters among the students in fifth grade. For example, ‘If you don’t send this email to ten friends by midnight, your mother will die in a car accident.’ Inappropriate, unfortunate, stupid. Bun Bun isn’t sending them; I’d like to think it’s because I’ve been proactive in certain areas and she remembered early warnings about not opening chain letters and never, ever forwarding anything. I’ve put the fear of God into my girls’ heads about not crossing the street without looking left-right-left that now they can barely step off the curb. I’ve cautioned them against scary books before bed, how orange juice after teeth brushing doesn’t work, and why it’s important to avoid dangling participles. I never thought to warn them about not drinking hand sanitizer.
I mean, seriously?
It’s not the latest, greatest trend, though the media would have you think otherwise. I’m living in the heart of punch-drunk-on-Purell, where the first six cases were reported, resulting in visits to local emergency rooms. But, c’mon! When I pick the girls up from school, do I have to tell them not to drink the stuff? Oh wait, I’m of the dirty-hands-build-your-immune-system school of thought on children’s health, so we don’t have any hand sanitizer around, but still. Was there no beer to sneak out of the fridge? No Crème de Menthe in the back of the pantry for these teenagers? Vanilla extract? (Goldie, if you’re reading this, remember I see everything. I am all-knowing. I also think you’re a great kid. When a boy says he’ll call you, don’t wait by the phone.)
Maybe this trend will only last as long as KONY 2012, which was what? About a week?
Last Sunday, we were driving somewhere and I asked the girls what happened with that ‘cover the night’ thing we were all supposed to do to help capture Ugandan warlord Joseph Kony. They barely looked up from their iPads/phones/Doritos to register I’d asked the question but I think one of them grunted and shrugged a shoulder. Wow. Talk about a fizzle. I guess there’s no good way to create a seemingly well-intentioned viral sensation about a very bad man AND turn a profit THEN figure out how to manage the fallout of your filmmaker running naked around San Diego while possibly masturbating.
Note to self: remember to tell the girls not to touch their lady bits in public. (Still reading, Goldie?)
Life, Parenting, Politics