Icy Chickens

My girls are grown now, but one of my favorite things is reminiscing about their childhood exploits. Watching my grandtwins be curious and get into stuff makes me remember something his mother once did.

When she was about three, she got a mild case of the chicken pox and then passed along the illness to her baby sister.  When Malia would cry and try to scratch herself, Janae told her, "I sorry you got my chickens!"

Adorable!

However, Malia retaliated by passing the chicken pox back to Janae!  (I guess since she had such a light go-round the first time, she finished up with a second trial of the pox.)

Anyway, for weeks we'd been warning Janae not to scratch her chickens. Desperate for relief, she spied daddy's jar of Icy Hot. He always put it on himself when he was in pain, why not try some for her pain?

She nabbed the jar when we weren't looking and, never one to do anything half-way, she slathered a bunch on a patch of the pox on her leg.

Oh, the screaming once the icy chickens became hot! I was panicking because I never dreamed the kids would get into Icy Hot. What to do?

I called the Poison Control Hotline while Jim instinctively rushed her to the bathtub and tried to rinse it off.  Poison Control told us that was the right thing to do, but rinse with cold water, not warm as he'd been doing.

Finally, the tears subsided (mine) and I was able to wrap Janae up in a towel and love on her until she quieted down. 

Now Icy Hot is always stored in an upper cabinet, because this one? 

He'd get hold of it if he could!

This post was written in response to Writer's Workshop prompt # 4. What did they get into now? Describe a time your toddler got into something they shouldn’t have.  For more zany stories, visit Kat Bouska's blog, Mama's Losin' It.