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, well, 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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