However, this past week my kids have contracted pink eye which, to be perfectly honest, does NOT bring any of the afore mentioned sweetness to mind. In fact, it brings to mind much nastiness. Pink eye is NOT a symbol of new life and baby animals romping playfully through a meadow. It is NOT a reminder of time spent with family frolicking in warm spring days. I do NOT revisit the cotton candy moments of my youth where birds sing, butterflies flutter and kites float lazily on the breeze while children squeal in delight.
No, pink eye is none of these things. Putting the word "pink" in front of the word "eye" does NOT in anyway make the word "eye" more pleasing. Just the opposite in fact.
Pink eye has made all three of my children look like they have lost boxing matches against really famous boxers whose names I will not even pretend to know. Their eyes are red and swollen and incredibly foul things leak out of them. To top it all off I get to line up all of my children for eye drops. It worked great - the first time. Now they know it is not a pleasant experience to put stinging, itchy drops in sore eyes. (You can't say my kids aren't bright.) As if the drops are not enough the kids are not allowed to touch their eyes. So here I go...
I put the drops in. 1 drop 3 times a day.
"Don't touch." I say.
Instantly little hands and even littler fingers leap up to the eye region of the face.
"Don't touch." I repeat as I attempt to block their ever increasing attempts to reach their eyes.
Little hands and even littler fingers continue to move with dizzying speed as they eventually break through my defenses and attempt to pop their offending eyeballs out of their ocular cavities.
"Don't touch." I repeat again as I remove their hands in an attempt to preserve the eye.
It is at this point that my cute, precious little angels turn into little creatures of pure malice that seek to take my life.
Pink eye is not my friend.