The Eyes Have It

Dear Reader,

Perhaps you can help me settle an ongoing internal debate. Which is the strongest display of love for one's child:

A) Drinking from the polluted wasteland that is a backwash-filled cup of water
B) Intentionally exposing oneself to pinkeye

We just left McDonald's, which is a place I loathe with a passion. After calling the doctor 18 times this morning with no answer, I decided to just hop in the car and drive downtown to her office. As I was looking for a parking space, I finally got through and they basically told me that pinkeye isn't an emergency and that they'd schedule an appointment for later. We went to McDonald's to have whatever the opposite of a victory breakfast is.

It was there that my daughter offered me some of her water. Offered is a euphemism for Ike Turnered. Just like you can't refuse Ike's gracious offering of cake, you can't successfully turn down my daughter's water. She offered it to me for 3 straight minutes. "Water? Water? Water, Daddy? Water? Water? Want some water? Here Daddy. Water! Have some water? Water..." I was thirsty; I just wasn't hungry. There had to be half a sausage biscuit in there. But I drank it, because I love her.

Love is also what's gonna give me her pinkeye. It's a testament to capitalism that the same people who exposed her to pinkeye not only have the right to refuse her admission to school today, but also are completely entitled to full tuition for the week. Like the old Trident commercials used to say, chew on this:

I ran Daddy Daycare for 2.5 years during which time she was sick MAYBE four times. After only six months with them she's been exposed to every strand of bubonic plague known to man. Each time she gets sick I have to keep her home. That in itself makes no sense to me, because the source of the virus is at the daycare. Keeping her home only increases her chances of spreading it to those who aren't sick. Then, on top of that, they still get paid even though she isn't there. You only had one job to do: Send her back home in the same condition she left. You exposed her to Ebola and you want me to fix it AND pay for it.

I've never had pinkeye before, so I did some research. Rule #1 says that she should keep her hands away from her eyes but if she does touch them then she should immediately wash them before touching surfaces or other people. Riiiight. She's three. The first thing she did was rub one eye, stick her finger in her nose and then rub the other one. Oh...and ask me for a hug. I hope it can't be spread through saliva because she had a brief moment of lunacy where she thought she was a dilophosaurus and started "play" spitting. The only problem is that real spit flew into my face.

I guess it's all a moot point. She woke up in the middle of the night scared because the "goo" that formed around her eyes hardened overnight and practically welded them shut. Even though I got up at 3 in the morning and cleaned her eyes, she was still afraid to get back in her bed. That's when I made the executive decision to intentionally expose myself to it. I let her sleep in the bed with me where she snuggled up and fell fast asleep. Who knows what microbes were dancing around on the sheets, but considering that she woke me up this morning by prying my eyelids open with her fingers, I'm certain they found their way into my eyes.

It's just a matter of time now. The things we do for love.