I wonder if three-year-old Justin Bieber ever spat his strawberry-flavoured medicine across the room?
This is on my mind because, as a Mumager, I’m concerned my boys may go off the rails like so many young stars before them, and start smoking/ingesting/injecting mind-altering substances. I’m hoping that given the way they take (or rather, don’t take) their medicines now, they’ll also refuse harder drugs in the future. (I imagine the Biebs opened his mouth wide and said, “More please, Mama!”)
Here’s what medicine-taking looks like in our household:
Option 1: I try the up-front, honest approach. “Here, son. You’re not well. Now, this medicine doesn’t taste great, but you can have a gummy bear afterwards.” Lips clamp shut so tightly that a 2-metre lever wielded by Arnold Schwarzenegger couldn’t prise them apart.
If I were the kind of mum who keeps score, that would be: Boy Band 1-0 Mumager
Option 2: I try the sneaky approach. “Would you like this yummy blackcurrant juice. It will cool you down and you’ll feel so much better.” Trusting eyes gaze at me with appreciation. One sip later, and the eyes snap wide open while the bonds of trust snap wide apart. “YUCK!!! DISGUSTING!!! What is this, Mum?!!”. The lips snap shut, the offending juice is spat out in the way that John Wayne spits snake venom from a wound, and for weeks afterwards, every sweet drink I offer is sniffed at suspiciously.
Boy Band 2-0 Mumager
(Ha! I’m even sneakier than you think, boys. I give crushed up de-worming tablets in cheesy baked beans. You weren’t expecting that, were you?)
The scores creeps up: Boy Band 2-1 Mumager
Option 3: I call in the Roadie. “Your son won’t take his medicine. Pin him down and squirt it in him, Papa.” The Roadie sweats it out, the eyes of distrust are focused on him, and I get to be the good guy who gives hugs and gummy bears afterwards.
I score the equaliser (Roadie gets the assist): Boy Band 2-2 Mumager
Option 4: The preferred method for Lead Vocal. “Mum, can you put some medicine up my bum?” “Really, son? Really? You won’t take this teeny, tiny, yummy, strawberry-flavoured spoonful of goodness?” Nope, this child would rather have a small torpedo inserted where the sun don’t shine.
Dang it! If I have to use latex gloves and a pot of Vaseline, there’s no way that’s a win for me. Then again, it’s hardly a moment of glory for Lead Vocal either. Let’s settle for an honourable draw: Boy Band 2-2 Mumager
With Air Guitar and Lead Vocal, we felt so confident that they wouldn’t pop any pills voluntarily, we never even had a locked medicine cabinet. However, Drummer Boy is a big fan of M&Ms, so we’ve now got the pills and potions under lock and key in case he thinks they’re sweeties. If anyone is going to go off the rails at a future Pharm party, it’ll be him.
And as for the socks in the title? Well, they are there because my boys won’t be getting up to any hanky-panky. They may, however, take an interest in darning socks. How rock ‘n’ roll would that be?