Yesterday I picked up dinner from a local Tex-Mex restaurant. We used to actually be able to eat the food there like civilized folk embracing the wonder that is “kids eat free day,” but seeing as though my crazy dear toddler has become unpredictable on outings these days, we do it carry-out style for now. Long story short, I requested lots of sour cream to make up for the fact that I couldn’t enjoy the meal peacefully in a restaurant setting. I planned on gorging my sadness away with the spoiled milk product that I desperately love.
I got the bags of yummy food inside and had just started laying them out on the table for everyone when aforementioned toddler came up to “help” me with the process. He grabbed a container and next thing I knew, he was complaining because some sour cream was all over his hand. As everyone else was engrossed in other activities during this encounter, I had to rely on my quick wits, which is code for my laziness/stupidity. I didn’t have any napkins nearby yet so I decided to do what any logical, starving mother of 3 would do; I licked the sour cream off his hand to move the little guy on his way.
The problem was that it wasn’t, in fact, sour cream. It was hand lotion that he had apparently dumped on the table earlier without my knowledge (or any other family member’s knowledge – that freaks me out a little). For the record, lotion tastes NOTHING like sour cream. It tastes like feet mixed with mildew mixed with truck stop toilet water and a dash of designer imposter perfume (I am assuming here because obviously I have never sampled any of those products…at least to my knowledge).
Needless to say, I screamed like a lunatic, gagged, started trying to wipe my tongue and grabbed the nearest drink and chugged it. My toddler thought this was HILARIOUS so he offered me his hand again as if maybe this time I would like to enjoy some chips with my side of hand cream. My “I might be dying over here” antics finally got the attention of the rest of family who rushed to my side to assist me – and by rushed, I mean looked at me as if I was annoying them with the noise and then slowly ambled over to check out the lotion-free spread I had already placed on the table.
I guess it wasn’t toxic as I am still alive to tell the tale, but moral of the story: NEVER assume that stuff on your baby’s hand is edible.