My heart slowed down too soon, as just seconds later he started screaming again. "It burns! It Hurts! My legs Hurt! Ow Ow Ow!" Great, just great. I tried to say goodbye to Mom, but she cut me off, told me to go take care of her grandson and hung up on me without a goodbye. Hmpf!
Colin made it to the living room, still screaming, about the same time Alonzo yelled though the window that it was green papaya sap. Good to know. Colin reacts to the sap from unripe papaya fruit the same way most people react to poison ivy. You would think he would learn to leave the stuff alone.
A few questions confirmed that it could be green papaya or possibly any number of other plants causing some sort of reaction. Every since the angel trumpet episode I am inclined to view the plants in the yard with a fair amount of suspicion. What ever it was, it seems as if fish poop and pond water didn't help much. The fish poop did gross me out. I guess from a kid's point of view that's something.
I threw the screaming kid into the shower and scrubbed down his legs several times, rinsing thoroughly between each scrubbing. This is a good initial treatment plan for poison ivy as well, except that every time I get into it I am in the middle of the woods with no soap or bathtub handy.
He continued to scream at the top of his lungs pretty much the entire time. It used up most of my store of patience so that when the next child (predictably) arrived also bearing red welts on his legs and whining pitifully, I just threw a bar of soap at him and told him to use my shower and scrub, rinse, repeat until I got around to checking on him.
Eventually all three boys were bathed, two were slathered down with Caladryl and told not to scratch. The youngest boys got a bath just because he didn't want to be left out. Things were peaceful again, but Mom was no longer on skype, and besides it was time to cook dinner if we were going to eat.
Dave got home from work while I was cooking. He started in on the lunch dishes (Don't I have the BEST husband?) while I related the events of the afternoon. He interrupted to say he would have jumped in the fish pond. I just stared at him. Finally I asked, "What is it about fish poop that makes you think it would make pain go away?"
"I don't know, that's just what I would do." answered my normally rational husband.
Must be genetic.