Pointy & Sticky

I was ready for the tie-dye shirts.  The camp sent home notices so I had some time to wrap my brain around drippy & messy t-shirts making their way into my home. I reminded myself that this kind of activity was a right of passage for little kids during the summer. I rehearsed the scene in my mind. I discussed coping devices with friends. So when I picked up my minivan full of campers toting leaky plastic bags of disaster, I was able to maintain some passable version of sanity.

$2 craft shirts on sale at Michael's last week...perfect timing

What I wasn't ready for was pointy & sticky. Pointy & sticky made their appearance in the minivan yesterday without any warning. No note. No time to seek counsel or Valium.  Giant plates of sticky marshmallows stabbed with pointy sticks greeted me as I claimed my campers.

Dan's "art."  I wanted to photograph Jack's plate of pointy & sticky as well, but he ate it on the ride home.

Pointy & sticky exist on a whole different level than drippy & messy. Drippy & messy impact the prefrontal cortex of the brain. Pointy & sticky attack the entire central nervous system.  A head's up from the camp counselors or local neurologist should have been required.

Now there are probably some moms out there who do not fully appreciate the differences between drippy & messy and pointy & sticky. Let me explain. Drippy & messy intrude on a mother's desire to maintain a certain amount of order in her world. Non-washable dye dripped on leather interiors (albeit used leather interiors) violates that basic human need.

Pointy & sticky cunningly deliver a two-pronged attack on a mother's psyche. First, there is the obvious safety issue.  Amped up little boys should simply not be allowed to run around with plates full of mini-daggers and a complete disregard for long-term vision care.

Second, we have the sticky issue. Contrary to drippy (whose path can be easily followed and maintained), sticky is akin to an aggressive cancer, spreading its unpleasant nature to all elements of car, home, clothing, remote controls, etc.  Even when you believe you have sent sticky into complete remission, you often find it persists somewhere.  Like your hairbrush or telephone. 

Unlike Jack, who devoured his pointy & sticky offering within moments of bouncing into the car, Daniel opted to save his project.  He asked me when we could go have it laminated.

I don't think the laminating experts at Lakeshore Learning would be able to cope with that idea without a neurologist's express written consent.  And possibly some Valium.