My self-imposed exile is over; I am now one with my iPod.
Okay, that may be overstating it a bit, but I do know how to work all the buttons, and I’ve gleefully updated my music collection with such gems as Adam Ant’s “Prince Charming”, “New Body” by Audio Adrenaline, and Matthew Sweet’s “Girlfriend”.
I’ve also met with a few unpleasant surprises–like how quickly one can drop fifty dollars just clicking that little Buy Song button in the iTunes music store. That, and the big, gaping hole in the Apple music collection where the So I Married an Axe Murderer soundtrack ought to be. (Start your letter-writing campaign here.)
Overall, however, I’m thrilled with my new iLife, which leads me (as promised) to these completely unrelated points:
On removing objects from a toddler’s nose:
Tilt the child’s head back. This will require three adults and a strong dose of Children’s Dimetapp. Attempt to make visual confirmation. If the object is a foodstuff, leave it. It will most likely dissolve and be discharged over the course of several days as your child blows his nose, or, if you live in the South, removed harmlessly by a colony of ants while the child sleeps. If the object is a toy soldier, Lego, Barbie shoe, or Hotwheels car, attempt to remove it with the tiny, useless tweezers from your Swiss Army knife. After fifteen minutes, when your efforts have accidentally shoved the object into the child’s brain, take him to the emergency room. They have special clamps just for errant toy removal and, after laughing at you for a while and posting the x-rays on their blog, they will take care of the problem in a matter of seconds. This also works for ears.
The top ten signs you’re not a teenager anymore:
- Your shirt and your pants touch.
- You no longer “get” Ethan Hawke’s character in Reality Bites.
- You stop laughing at those bathing suits with the little skirts on them.
- Your vision of “prince charming” has evolved–instead of riding up on a white horse and sweeping you away to an enchanted castle, he rides up in a fuel-efficient car, sweeps you out of the kitchen, and then loads the dishwasher, picks up toys, and puts the kids in bed while you sit perfectly still with a diet Coke in your hand.
- You quit sucking in your stomach for photos, and suck in your double chin instead.
- “Going to bed early” sounds like a reward, not a punishment.
- You don’t know who Carson Daly is.
- You siphon money out of the grocery budget to go hear Duran Duran in concert.
- Your favorite cable channels are HGTV, The History Channel, and A&E.
- The cute waiter at your girls’ night out turns out to be someone you used to babysit.
On what to do when a dinner guest finds a hair in his food:
I must confess. I was bluffing on this one. I have absolutely no idea what to do when a guest distastefully draws a golden lock of the cook’s mane out of his pasta primavera. I suppose I would just quietly die of embarrassment. After all, it would be tacky for him to mention it then.