July 27, 2000
Less than three days after Dakota attempted to fly off the furniture and had to have his head glued shut, he was once again on the war path and causing grief. Today, he decided to go on adventure and see what types of mischief he could cause while staying in the house. With temperatures hovering around 112 degrees, the kids don’t play much outside unless they are in the pool. Trina is running around getting ready for her meeting tonight and I am glued to the television as I watch to see if the Diamondbacks can avoid being swept in St. Louis. I soon came to the realization that things were way to quiet. This could mean only one thing, Dakota was up to no good. The best analogy I can come up with is that it is very similar to what sailors must feel just before a large storm envelopes their ship. Where there was sunshine and a slight breeze, it is now cloudy and the winds are silent. Then, just when you are lulled into thinking all is well, hurricane winds lash out at the ship causing death and destruction. As I was pondering this thought, I heard Dakota scream and yell as he came flying down the stairs. He was holding his face and calling for his mother. Trina and I rushed to find out what was happening. There did not appear to be a blood trail so that was an immediate plus to the situation. As we got near Dakota, he wreeked of an odor I was unfamilar with. I could hardly stand to be next to the boy. “What is that smell!” I asked over the screaming boy. “Clove Oil” was Trina’s response. It seems that Dakota had stumbled onto a small bottle of clove oil and decided the bottle looked remarkably close to Trina’s perfume. Since he didn’t want to stink, he put some on his face around his mouth and chin. As if that was not enough, he also decided to put a dab on his lips. Anyone who has been around a three-year-old knows that a little boy’s toungue never stays in his mouth. Whether he is making faces at his sisters or tasting everything in sight, Dakota took a big lick of the lips getting clove oil in his mouth. He was now screaming and spitting as Trina and I attempted to help him get the stink and the taste off his little body. The thing about clove oil is that it not only stinks, it also deadens the nerves. It is like stinky novacaine. By the time we had assessed the situation, poor Dakota had lost feeling on the right side of his mouth. I tried to be helpful and gave him a popsicle to get the taste out of his mouth. Instead, he stuck the popsicle to the side of his cheek in an attempt to get the feeling to return to his face. I have to admit, there is not a whole lot of things in this world funnier than seeing a kid with an orange popsicle stuck to the side of his face. I would like to think that Dakota learned his lesson but I am pretty sure he didn’t. I dread thinking what his next adventure is going to be.