Emme, who is destined to become a future Olympic swimmer, complained earlier that her ear was bothering her after swim class.
I groaned. Her first ear infection. I had them all the time when I was a fledgling swimmer. Long before I took the shape of a sausage when wearing a swim suit. And just prior to having my tonsils removed.
We ordered her into the master bathroom and fished out the industrial hurricane flashlight. After locating my strongest reading glasses, I peered into her ear canal. “WELL GREAT BALLS OF EAR WAX, NO WONDER THE CHILD NEVER ANSWERS ME WHEN I CALL HER.”
I suspect in reality, however, that her hearing is impaired because she just recently acquired Fiddledaddy’s mock iPod wannabe. And she has some new fangled wrap around the ear earphones with which to hear her musical selections. (I have it on good authority that that includes plenty of Disney songs, plus a little Plumb and Jump 5 thrown in for good measure.)
And my daughter likes her music loud.
Because the nut seldom falls far from the tree.
This is me, circa 1971ish, with my groovy stereo system which boasted of a turn table, an auto drop for my LP’s and automatic arm, to reduce scratching. It took up my entire vanity, with the speakers resting beneath. Notice the canary yellow radio to the side. And the adjustable airplane regulation cushioned ear phones. A symphonic masterpiece of surround sound. Awesome.
The startled look on my face is because my brother enjoyed scaring me, while I listened to the soothing sounds of The Osmond Brothers The Grateful Dead.
We quickly realized that the ear wax must be removed. I got out my trusty Q-tip and Fiddledaddy yelled, “NOOOO!”
“You must NEVER stick a Q-tip into anyone’s ear! Promise me you won’t.”
“Um. Okay. I promise.”
“Promise me you’ll never stick a Q-tip into anyone’s ear that lives in this house!”
“Okay. I promise. Except for my own.”
And with that he checked to make sure I wasn’t crossing anything.
Sheesh. I clean my ears out every time I wash my hair by dampening the end of the Q-tip and going for it. IT FEELS WONDERFUL! And I never never go in too far.
This ritual creeps Fiddledaddy out every time he is witness to it.
JUST LOOK AWAY.
So. Plan B. We found the blue squishy ball with a tip to it, and I quickly looked up what to use to wash out ear wax.
Dr. Sears recommends a solution of 1/2 hydrogen peroxide and 1/2 water. (BTW, he also said that while a Q-tip is not generally recommended, it is okay to swab around the inside of the ear, without getting into the canal.)
The wax extrication worked like a charm. Emme was delighted to see what came washing out of her ear. I on the other hand completely lost my appetite for my nightly bowl of chocolate ice cream.
Now I just need to get her to turn the volume down on her iPod Wannabe so that she doesn’t turn into a late 40 year old woman who CAN’T HEAR and has an addiction to slightly dampened Q-tips.