Children’s Tylenol and Motrin are flavored like bubble gum or grape or whatever syrupy flavor will entice kids, but my daughter hated them. She’d wake up each morning feeling wretched—throat sore, mouth dry—but cried at the thought of swallowing the purple cup of pain reliever. One morning, H was particularly upset, and Art and I were trying to find ways to distract her. Our little dog Phil jumped on the bed.
“I know!” I said, “Phil loves to lick toes. How about he licks your feet while you gulp down the medicine? It’ll distract you.”
Art nodded and patted the mattress by H’s feet. “Yes! Come on, Phil.”
My daughter was smiling while we put four-pound-Phil next to her bare toes. But Phil wasn’t interested that day, no matter how many times we encouraged him.
“Okay, what if I lick your feet?”
H and Art stared at me. I wasn’t sure why I’d said it, but I reiterated my offer. “If I lick your big toe, will you swig this cup of Tylenol?”
H looked at me like I’d offered her a unicorn in exchange for a fart.
“Oh yes, I will,” she grinned.
I tried not to think of the cosmopolis of bacteria that were certainly living on her summer feet.
“On the count of three: one…two…three.”
She gulped down the whole dose of medicine, at the same time that I leaned over and stuck the tip of my tongue onto the bottom of her salty, grimy big toe.
Art was giving me a look that said, “I will never kiss you again.”
H was laughing wildly, and I ran to the bathroom to rinse out my mouth.
“Why did you do that, mama!?” she called to me.
“Because parents will do anything for their kids!” I called back.
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