Friday, September 19, 2008

Why my children didn't eat dinner until 8 p.m.


After coming home from a fun day of soccer practice, swim lessons, and the park, my kids were ready for dinner. I took Jacob and Michael in first and put a pot of water on the stove to boil. Then I went out to get Zachary. Zachary was crying, and he was pointing to his mouth. He looked like he was going to vomit, so I ran him inside. 

He did vomit. The vomit was white. White, bubbly, sweet-smelling foam. I gave him a drink of water while I went out to the van. There, tragically overturned underneath the center console, was an empty 40 oz. Super Size bottle of Mr. Bubble (completely full 90 seconds prior). Zachary ingested approximately 2 oz, which converted to one gallon of bubble-vomit; the driver's seat was completely saturated with the remaining 38 oz. So dinner was postponed for two hours: one hour to repeatedly rinse and shop-vacuum the seat, and one hour to clean up three muddy boys who had gotten into mischief while I was shop-vacuuming.

Now I've heard that last month Mr. Bubble filed for bankruptcy. This is sad news for all of us, especially for those of us who have enjoyed "Big Bubblin' Fun" throughout our childhoods. But to be honest, there are some serious problems with the packaging. The advertising on the back of the bottle asserts that the product "Makes Getting Clean Almost As Much Fun As Getting Dirty!" Yesterday the product made us both dirty and clean, and neither was fun. In addition, I see no directions on the packaging that indicate how to remove the product from automobile upholstery. Finally, why in the world is there no child-protective cap?

P.S. I wish that I could include pictures. In an unrelated but equally tragic event, our camera was recently submerged in the fish tank.


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