Itchy & Scratchy

One thing that you quickly become acclimated to when you become a parent is grossness. Comes with the territory.

Baby spit-up? Gimme a break. Doesn't phase me; bring it on!

Urine? So not a big deal. While Noah has been peed on more times than I have (not sure what's up with that), it has happened more times than I can count and doesn't make me blink.

Bowl movements? OK, so some are more gross than others, and Anna's have definitely pushed the grossness envelope from Lily's. But we just hold our breath, go as fast as we can, and then wash, wash, wash the hands. Or the clothes that it got on. Or the sheets. That stuff goes everywhere.

Preschool vomit? Definitely gross. I used to get sick just thinking of that scene in Stand By Me where the entire pie eating contest audience throws up. But I've been so desensitized to it that it no longer even makes me gag. I just hold back the hair, wipe up the tears, and then clean it all up.

I made a discovery earlier this week, though, that is one for the history books. It redefines GROSS. GRODY. TOTALLY UKK. I was watering our completely gorgeous hibiscus plant. The one that had about one million blossoms in full pinky bloom. And about one million more buds. Ah, it was the punch of cheerful color that was going to get us through the long, grey, cold winter. And covering both the pinkalicious blossoms AND the cute green buds were black dots. TONS 'o black dots.

After 48 hours in the cool fall air, the hardy ones are still munching away on the blossoms.

Hoping against hope that it was some kind of a fungus, I quickly did a Google search. Turns out it's not a fungus. Not at all. Unfortunately we had a nice infestation of Aphids, otherwise known as PLANT. LICE. Yes, a zillion bugs had taken up residence on our hibiscus. I haven't stopped scratching since I made the discovery; my scalp automatically started tickling as soon as I read those dreaded words on the computer screen. Noah hasn't stopped itching. Even Lily was grossed out by this one!


The "cure" for aphids is involved, not guaranteed, and takes up to a year. So this family, that doesn't have even one green thumb between us, decided to just enjoy the hibiscus through glass. It's now living on our front stoop. It'll likely die a slow death as it gets progressively colder. C'est la vie. I wonder if our hibiscus benefactors....our favorite former neighbors who moved to NJ....had anything to do with the bugs. I think we've been Punk'd!