Avoid Germs? Easy - Just Stop Breathing!

Aidan has already developed a really bad habit of biting his nails. Wonder where he got that from? Mama has been fighting that battle for years, since my own childhood. Part of me completely empathizes with him, but another (vocal) part of me rags on him daily: "Stop biting your nails!" We have discussion after discussion about why it's not good (the same conversations my mother had with me, to no avail) -- you pick up germs that way, you'll get sick, it's unsightly, your fingertips get red and sore. Right. I never bought it either ... so what makes me think it will work on him?

Yesterday my mom informed me that a nasty stomach virus is wreaking havoc in the elementary school. She learned this from her hair-dresser, whose own children have fallen prey. "Just a heads-up," my mom warned. Oooohhhh ... my little nail-biter had better not bring that home!

This morning before school, as I was bundling Aidan up in his snowpants and winter accessories, I embarked upon yet another lesson about the evils of nail-biting, and this time I had ammunition. I told him what Grandma said, about this nasty virus spreading around his school. When he asked me what a "stomach virus" is, he paled when I told him what would happen. Eeeeewwww! he exclaimed. Yes, "eeewww" is right, my boy ... and you could pick up those nasty germs when you bite your nails!

He asked me to explain how it worked, this transference of germs onto his fingers and then into his body. Boy, an anatomy lesson at 7:00 a.m. wasn't what I had in mind but I did what I could, hoping to scare his habit right out of him. After my mini-health-lesson, he sat on the chair in thoughtful reflection. He twisted his mouth a bit. He wrinkled his brow. He bit the nail on his forefinger.

"Mommy," he said quietly, thoughtfully. "Are there really germs all over my school?"

Yes, I answered. Germs are everywhere -- we live with them every day. But I just don't want you to pick up this particularly bad one because of your nail-biting. He sat and thought some more.

"Mommy," he said again, quietly, thoughtfully. "Will I be allowed to breathe when I'm in school? If I can't, I don't know what I'll do."

I couldn't help but laugh.
I just hope I'm still laughing if we're all hugging the porcelain bowl in the near future.