Purple Sand Is Purple. You Heard It Here First.

This doesn’t happen very often but every once in awhile I think I have this parenting thing down. This is a great feeling but it produces a very negative effect. That’s right. Cockiness. It makes you feel so secure in your parenting genius that you go and do really stupid things like this:

I will tell you the many ways in which this product's name is misleading but first I will explain how I got so cocky.

Keaton needed to see the doctor for a persistent dry patch he’s been sporting around his nose which, of course, I googled and swiftly diagnosed as Impetigo. Quickly, after reading some kids’ medical site, I was sure he was terribly infected and oh God this is something dirty kids get (untrue says rational, wine-medicated Christy, but she wasn’t here when I was being a google queen so…) and it’s contagious so we’ll need to be in an isolation bubble and CRAP he probably has lice too, because I forgot to dust for maybe a week or two there and let’s just pile up the mattresses and burn them in the front yard because bed bugs are surely next. In my haste, to get what I was sure was my near-to-death son in, I didn’t wait for an appointment that Bill could be around for to either watch Rowan or to at least be my assistant. This was an EMER-GEN-CY.

Things went so smoothly as I got them ready to go and they were just the picture of polite and adorable-ness one could only dream of while we checked in and waited for our turn. This has actually never happened before so you can see why I was riding so high. I’m usually the mom with two day old hair and make-up, carrying one kid backwards in a football hold while trying to chase the other one and catch her before she infiltrates the ever intriguing Employees Only area.

So my terribly ill, diseased Impetigo ridden son was diagnosed with…yep, you guessed it…a fricken dry patch. The Doctor said “Neosporin and Eucerin, you Idiot” (OK so our pediatrician is really nice. I added the idiot part, but I’m sure she was thinking it and if she wasn’t then WHO IS THE IDIOT NOW, I ASK YOU.) Both kids were great in the room and compliant when we left and after I got them both buckled in to their car seats I just sat there in disbelief at how… EASY the whole thing had been.

So once the cockiness was in full swing I was all, Why don’t I just strap them both to my back and climb Mount Everest? Or do that barrel drop from Niagra Falls? We can do anything now! We are invincible! It was pretty close to lunch so I decided to just maybe stop at Menard’s to pick up some sand for their sand and water table we keep out on the deck. The other stuff could wait til after naps, perhaps.

So off to Menard’s we went and after a quick potty break we got one of those cool carts with the little car attached to the front and went looking for sand. There may have been a little snafu here when a mom pulled in front of us with her toddler son in another car cart and Rowan took a much worn page out of her father’s book and shouted “MOVE IT, BUDDY” while honking the horn, but I was riding too high. Invincible! Towanda! I apologized to the understanding mom and we continued to the garden center.

On the way to the plain old regular boring sand, the above pictured atrocity entered my field of vision. What is that? PURPLE SAND? No. I must be mistaken. Sand isn’t purple…it’s…uh…beigey-brown sandy colored. This is REVOLUTIONARY. Before I knew what I was saying I had shouted Purple! Sand! and Rowan was all, NO WAY and I was all WAY and then it was in my cart and I was all I AM THE BEST MOTHER IN THE WORLD. I JUST BOUGHT MY PERFECT CHILDREN, PERFECT PURPLE SAND. NO BAD CAN COME OF THIS.

Here is the thing about purple sand. It’s fucking purple. And here’s another newsflash: Sand is big as a whole, like when it is contained in a box, but individually it is very tiny. Who knew? And who new that when kids play with sand it doesn’t all stay in the box. It can go lots of places like ALL OVER YOUR CARPET. It embeds itself, not so deep that it can’t be very clearly seen, but too deep for our $7.00, 80 year old vacuum cleaner to pick up. And your kids store it between their toes and then strategically release it in various places around your house. Like in your bed. I am now the proud owner of a purple sand bed. You try to sweep it off but it just doesn’t work! All efforts have been proved futile. Now I really WILL have to burn my mattress to get rid of ALL THE PURPLE SAND. WE ARE BEING OVERRUN! HELP ME! FOR I AM SO VERY STUPID!

Help! The purple sand is back! It's gonna be extinction all over again!

"Oh God, do you hear her?" "Yeah. Anytime she's forced to pick up a broom she gets all End of the World-y. You'll get used to it."

Keaton is demonstrating that maybe the water side of this table is not such a good idea either, but at least it isn't purple water.

Oh Lord, that is all going to end up on my carpet and Look! I'm pretty sure it has killed the Triceratops.

So the kids seem to really like it and that’s what’s important, right? I am just ALL ABOUT THE KIDS. My husband, on the other hand, has vowed never to forgive me for inflicting this purple plague on our household, so I’m kind of screwed. Moral of the story? Be thankful when your kids make you feel like a moron. It’s really for safety purposes, because this (THIS!) is what happens when you start to think you have things under control.

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