When you were growing up, what was that one thing your mother always told you would fix anything? In our house, it was Campho-Phenique. That magical tiny green glass bottle, filled with slippery fluid. I have a love/hate relationship with its noxious odor and burn.
When we were kids, whatever happened, no matter what hurt, Mom sent us to the cabinet behind the bathroom mirror for Campho-Phenique.
"Mommy, I cut my pinky toe!"
"Get me the Campho-Phenique."
"Owwww, Momma, it stings! Blow on it! Blow on it!"
"Phhh...phhhh....Sorry! Better?"
"Yes. Thank you, Mommy!"
As we grew, Campho-Phenique taught us independence.
"Momma, I fell and scraped my elbow!"
"Get the Campho-Phenique. It'll sting for a minute, but then it'll feel better. Just blow on it after you put it on."
It even taught us better hygiene.
"Mom, my...um....my...umm...you know, my (whispered) rear end itches."
"Ewww. Take a bath! Then get the Campho-Phenique."
"How'm I gonna blow on it?"
"I don't know. Don't ask me."
Seriously, she thought it would cure anything.
"Mom...Gary dumped me."
"Oh...sorry. Get the Campho-Phenique. No wait. He what?"
Well, almost anything.
And so it went. If Campho-Phenique didn't fix something, we went to the doctor. And we didn't go to the doctor often. When I grew up, got married and moved into a place of my own, I resisted at first, but eventually that little green bottle made its way into my medicine cabinet.
Then, the day came when I heard the words come out of my own mouth. My little boy came running to me with an ouchy, and I said:
"Get the Campho-Phenique."
Whaaaaaaaat? No, I didn't just say that. Was my mother there hiding? No, it was me! I was turning into my mother. I checked around just to be sure. Yep, Scott toilet tissue on the roller. Tide laundry soap on top of the dryer. Goober Grape in the pantry. Her influence was all over the place, and I hadn't completely realized it until the moment I sent my son to the bathroom for the Campho-Phenique.
The magic handed down from generation to generation comes in different shapes and sizes. To some people, it looks like duct tape. To others, Pepto Bismol. My dad swore it was iodine, but Mom cured him, I think.
Yesterday, my 12-year-old came in my office and showed me her pointer finger. She asked me if I could see the angry red bump on the side near her fingernail. I said, "Yep, that's swollen because of a hangnail. Go dip it in Campho-Phenique, let it soak in for a minute, then wipe off the extra. If it stings, blow on it."
A minute later, I heard her come back through the bathroom door behind me. She was talking to herself.
"Campho-Phenique. It cures anything."
I smiled.
This story was inspired by this month's Blogging for Books at Faster Than Kudzu, the blog of Joshilyn Jackson, author of gods in Alabama and soon-to-be-released Between, Georgia.
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9 comments:
I love this story! It reminds me of the dad in "My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding" and his conviction that Windex was a cure-all. (I think it was Windex...been a while since I've seen that) How cool that your daughter is already carrying on the tradition.
You would have my vote for this month's winner except that I don't have a vote so I guess I should just say that your post is excellent and I'm happy you shared it, even though you disqualified yourself!
Deb,
I was telling my family about this story Saturday evening, and yes, we did remember the scenes from MBFGW (one of my favorite movies!!) about the Windex. I thought it was absolutely hysterical, and it definitely reminded me of the Campho-Phenique thing. In fact, I meant to mention that in my story, and then totally forgot!
Court,
Wow, I am extremely flattered. There are lots of great stories out there. Thanks for reading and your comment is most definitely a boost to my ego this morning!
(Hey, no comments from the peanut gallery about whether I needed a boost or not! Heh.)
Great story. We had Neosporin. Always the Neosporin. And chamomile tea - the cure-all for any illness.
LOVED this! I think we're still working on our original bottle of Campho-phenique too ROFL
Oh, gosh, yes, I forgot to mention, Angel, that only ONE bottle of Campho-Phenique provides an endless supply.
The stuff literally lasts forever! We now have two bottles because I was afraid one was going to run out soon, but we're still working on both. I'm relatively sure I've had the first one for at least 15 years.
So, obviously, magic in more ways than one.
Hee hee, we not only had the old Camphophenique (which as a child I thought was all one word like that, spelled camfofenick or something like that), but also (I'm giving away my age here) the famous Mercurochrome and the ever popular Methiolate, both of which were kind of reddish orange like iodine and did not sting like the campho. The Methiolate had an interesting smell that I liked for some odd reason, kinda like a Magic Marker. I'm sure they were probably both cancer agents or something, since I don't even think you can buy them anymore. I mainly used campho for fever blisters, which I seemed to get pretty regularly. I remember begging my mom to get some Bactine, because the commercial had me convinced it would not sting at all, but she insisted the Mercurochrome was just as good . . . ahhhh, good times.
Calamine lotion. Robitussin (anyone familiar with Chris Rock's bit on Tussin?). Mary Kay Night Cream. Aloe vera gel. And yep, good ol' Campho-Phenique. I've got an ancient bottle somewhere--probably given to me by my mom.
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