Check out my latest column as published by the Orange County Register:There are few inventions of the past century that have truly transformed life as we know it. In my opinion, the wet wipe ranks right up there with Tivo and the iPhone.
Not only does this factory-generated miracle serve its intended use as a baby's backside cleanser in my house, it is the king of multitasking and the MVP of our living space.
Spilled something on the floor? Wet wipe.
Squirted ketchup on your shirt? Wet wipe.
Want to use the restroom after the 4-year-old boy who doesn't always lift the lid? Wet wipe.
Need to scrub the kids' faces to visit the pediatrician and/or Grandma? Wet wipe.
Sneeze got away from you? Wet wipe.
Anti-bacterial squirt just isn't enough after a trip to Walmart? Wet wipe.
Too tired to wash your face before bed? Wet wipe.
Too tired to shower? Yeah, so what?
The list goes on, so Costco can rest assured its 10,000-pack cases will always remain a hot commodity. But little did I know how they would come in handy on a dark and stormy night.
We were driving home from a family wedding inLos Angeles. The serving trays stacked with crudites and meatballs just didn't cut it for our toddlers, so we pulled into an In-N-Out for a late-night snack. In the parking lot, I noticed a teenage boy looking at his reflection in the window of a nearby car. Something dark and wet covered his face and hands, and I got that mama-bear feeling.
"Michael, stop the car. Something's wrong with that kid," I said.
We pulled up next to him and rolled down our window. He was covered in blood and was desperately trying to wipe it off with the sleeve of his sweat shirt. Without even knowing him, it was obvious his nose was twice the size it should be, and he definitely didn't want someone out there to see him like this.
"Are you OK?" we asked.
"Uh, yeah, I just got into a fight," he said, trying to laugh it off. He reeked of alcohol.
Michael and I looked at each other, helpless. We had our four kids in the back and had just completed a CPR class that spent a good portion on the importance of never exposing yourself to someone else's blood. So the thought of a drunk, battle-axed teenager in my car was not too appealing. But then I saw them ... a glistening pack of wet wipes on the floor of my car!
"Here!" I practically threw them out the window to the boy, who gratefully pulled a few and went to town scrubbing his hands and face. As we watched them do their magic, Michael turned to me, softening in this awkward scenario. I nodded and climbed into the back seat.
"Need a ride?" Michael asked the boy.
He climbed in and led us to a residence about a mile away, where he jumped out, murmured a thank you and took a few wet wipes for the road.
Feeling confident that this experience had just forewarned our four bug-eyed young children to all the reasons not to drink, fight and wander alone at night, Michael motioned for me to climb back into the front seat. It was now marked by a smear of blood.
"First, stop at Ralphs. Let's pick up some of those Clorox wipes."
gosh you are so clever! want to write all my papers for me???
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