Water on my mind . . .

At ye old homestead in Goodrich, the well water ain’t that great. Lots of iron and lots of arsenic. That being the case, we tend not to drink the stuff. We buy bottled water.
This past week, after we came home from a little time off on the shores of Lake Huron, I happened to glance at one of the jugs of water we used. Did you know water has an expiration date?
Yep, it’s true. The jug said to use the contents by a particular date in 2006. I did not know water could go bad, or spoil. I guess each of us, every person and thing, has a shelf life.
I am just a little worried about the length of time youngest son Sean, 5 has. He just does things which shivers me timbers.
His mother and I are getting gray before our allotted times.
Sean is the guy who two yeas ago thought it was a grand idea to shove a sea shell from Hawaii straight up his nose. Yep, lodged that bad boy so far and snug up there it required a trip to the emergency room to extract. That little incident has since caused his Grandma Gun to stop giving gifts of sea shells. Yes, it was traumatic for all involved.
When traveling in a park, or through the woods or anywhere there could be options other than sidewalks, paths or grass, Sean will find them. If he can, he will jump from boulder to boulder, or climb from tree limb to tree limb, to arrive at his chosen destination. The rest of us bipedal mortals chose to walk.
Sean is the guy who knows no fear. He hates pain and the thought of it. He possesses an extra set of vocal chords which he can activate (excruciatingly loud) at the onset of pain, or the assumption of ensuing pain (ask the nurse who proposed giving him his booster shots for school, then ask anybody in the same building once said shots were administered). So how he became Mr. Bravado, Mr. Throw-Caution-To-The-Wind Rush, the Fearless Sean, I don’t know.
He is what he is.
While on the sandy shores of Lake Huron, Sean was the first of the clan to head to the water. With reckless abandon he plunged in ready to do battle with waves that were as deep as he is tall. Mind you, 96.3 percent of Sean’s water experience is in our home’s bath tub. Little things like knowing what you’re doing don’t phase Sean. So it was with great trepidation I watched as the first wave knocked him down so the second could wash over him.
Before I could get there, he was up and with feet set, yelling to the god of big water, Posiden, ‘It’s clobbering time.? When I got there, he delivered a barrage of punches and some karate kicks that would make Chuck Norris proud — even though I’m sure Chuck doesn’t try to kick water’s butt. Water always wins.
After the four-hour epic battle with Lake Huron, our young warrior developed an ear ache. He must have water in his ear, we concluded. Soon, he was over the pain in his head and we pretty much concluded that was that ?
? until this past Sunday morning when little boy Sean woke up with a nasty looking, red and inflamed right ear. ‘Hmmm?? we thought — then remembered who we were talking to.
‘Sean, did you put anything in your ear??
‘Before vacation.?
So, for two weeks the little boy had a wad of string in his ear. A wad of string that sucked up all that good old, yucky Lake Huron water and any bacteria that happened to float by while Sean pummeled the water. A wad of string that for days was turning all sorts of nasty colors, emitting all sorts of icky smells as his body tried in vain to rid itself of the invader in his ear.
Six hours in the hospital emergency room, an IV line, ‘sleepy medicine? and dual activated vocal cords later, Sean was wad-free. His ear still hurts; he has to take medicine orally and in the ear. And, you know what, I don’t think he’ll put anything else in his ear ? or his nose ? all bets are off concerning any other body cavity.
* * *
Addendum — Sean’s dear old mom Jen had to take him back on Monday — more string and gunk was found. Arrg! Thank goodness for Jen. In a 24-hour period she heard her baby scream for pity, ‘Mommy make them s-t-o-p!? for about 10 hours. She’s oh so much stronger than me.
Comments for Don can be e-mailed to: dontrushmedon@charter.net