Gross/inconvenient things I have accidentally taught my daughter to do

A major part of being a parent is regretting stupid things that you did that you can't un-teach your kid. It's unavoidable. No matter how carefully you think everything through, someday you're going to wind up doing something in front of your kid that they're going to think is the greatest idea ever, and they're going to copy it and copy it and copy it as you wilt like a flower that hasn't been watered in a week.

Here are a few such things that I've inadvertently taught Audrey to do:


Hands wet? No problem; wipe them on Mommy's clothing

I actually taught her this one on purpose. Sort of. I tried to teach her one thing, but it completely backfired on me.

The lesson I was attempting to impart is that if you get some water on your hands, you can just wipe your hands on your pants and then your hands will be dry. I did this because she tended to freak out whenever her hands got wet, and would shriek and panic until they were dried with a towel or something. I wanted her to have a means of coping with the situation on her own so that she wouldn't need to freak out.

So I showed her how I wipe my wet hands on my own pants, and then they aren't wet anymore. And she was like "oh, got it."

But she misunderstood.

Now she thinks that my clothing is a towel. Mine and mine alone.

It doesn't matter what the liquid in question is -- be it milk, juice, water, probably even urine -- if it's on your hands and you don't want it there anymore, go find your mother and wipe your hands all over her. It's cool; she said it was okay. Bonus points for liquids that will leave a stain.

Audrey ... I said WATER. On YOUR OWN PANTS. Not "raspberry juice on my nice scarf."

Hrrmmph.


Fingers dirty? No problem; shove them in Mommy's mouth until they are clean

This method was borne of desperation. When a toddler manages to get some sticky food substance all over their hands at an unexpected time, you have two choices: you can either run for a napkin or towel and find that the mess has been spread everywhere by the time you get back, or ... you can use your mouth to clean the chocolate, peanut butter, or jam off little one's fingers.

In one such desperate moment, I foolishly opted for the Mommy's Mouth approach.

Now Audrey believes that that is the standard method for getting any sticky food mess off her hands.

Just this morning, we were sharing an English muffin with peanut butter, and she got peanut butter on her finger. Without asking or even hesitating for an instant, she turned around and shoved her finger into my mouth like it was a free car wash built just for her.

I tried to show her that she can suck these things off of her OWN fingers if she wants to, but evidently that was not acceptable. I guess I just do a better job.

A second later, she also got peanut butter on her binkie ... and guess where that ended up too.

In the dishwasher on Mommy's face, that's where.

Hrrmph.


Finished eating or drinking something? No problem; throw it in the garbage

Audrey still struggles to differentiate between things like an empty applesauce pouch, which is trash, and an empty juice cup, which is reusable.

So, she has decided to make things easy on herself by just assuming that everything is garbage, all the time.

And she's so independent about it, too. She'll just take her plastic Elmo bowl of Cheerios into the kitchen without a word and drop the whole thing into the trash. She threw away a nice glass dish with matching lid; she threw away a plate that we were using to share some waffle; she has thrown away her juice cups more times than I can count. We need to install a little bell on the cabinet where the trash can is so we stand a better chance of catching her when she does this.

I think we've managed to notice every time she throws away something she's not supposed to, so we can dig it out and wash it off ... but then again, there are about four or five binkies that I haven't seen in quite a while. They could be anywhere.

But they're probably in a landfill somewhere.

Hrrmph.


Done with your salsa snack? Put the chip away -- back in the bag!

Jesse often eats tortilla chips with salsa as a snack, and Audrey likes to join him in this snack. Kid loves salsa.

Look at her go! And it's medium salsa, too! Does YOUR kid eat medium salsa?

Oh, they do? They eat hot salsa? Well ... you shouldn't be giving your kid hot salsa anyway. It's bad for them and it'll give them diarrhea.

See what I did there? You were better than me, so I turned it right around on you and criticized your parenting. I'm a natural at this shit.

But she doesn't really get that you're supposed to eat the chip, too. She just thinks that the chip is some kind of weird spoon you use to scoop salsa into your mouth (which, to be fair, I kind of agree with).

So she will use the same chip to eat all the salsa she wants, dipping it over and over again and sucking all the salsa off it. And then, when she's finished, she drops her disgusting half-dissolved mouth chip right back into the bag.

Nasty.

I guess it's better than her usual method of disposal of snacks she doesn't want anymore, which is DIRECTLY INTO MY MOUTH. And then of course there's her new method of announcing that she is finished eating her dinner, which is to start picking up pieces of food and squishing them in her fist as hard as she can.

You haven't lived until you've seen a piece of tofu oozing between tiny fingers like extra liquidy Play-doh.

Hrrmph.



It's cool, though. In a couple months, I'll have a whole new kid to teach. A blank canvas.

And this time, I'm gonna do everything right. You just wait!