COLUMN: It’s really true that Mother knows best
Mothers know everything, and I can prove it.
Late last Saturday, I was cleaning up a few things around the apartment and I accidentally knocked a melted candle from its warmer onto the floor, spilling hot wax every which way. It was a disaster. It soaked into the carpet, plastered the walls and what made it worse was now it was no longer a hot liquid, but congealed, returning to its original waxy state.
I tried to clean it up myself. But after a few minutes of trying to scrape and scrub, I surrendered and did the only thing a 21-year-old college girl could do in a situation like this: call Mom.
When she answered, I recounted my plight, my clumsiness, my already exhausted solutions, everything. My mother was sympathetic, a necessary trait in these kinds of situations, and calmly said, “Bummer. OK, now here’s how you get that out of carpet.”
She told me to get an iron, a roll of paper towels, and some newspaper. First, I was to lay the paper towels onto of the hardened wax. Next, lay the newspaper on the paper towels. Finally, iron the newspaper.
I was in shock. I would have never, ever thought of that, yet the science seemed simple enough. The iron melts the wax and the paper towel soaks up the liquid.
I went to work and the more I ironed the more impressed I became. It worked wonderfully. In two minutes, I had cleaned up more wax than I had in the 15 minutes I spent scrubbing and scraping.
My mother’s plan was brilliant. But how did she know how to do that? It must be in the motherhood manual.
I went on working for another few minutes, until the paper towel I was using had soaked up so much wax it couldn’t hold anymore. I set down the iron then reached around to grab some more paper towels. Sadly, my clumsiness had not improved, and I carelessly slammed the inside of my wrist onto the hot iron surface, creating a fairly serious burn.
I yelped, ran to the sink and doused my wrist with copious amounts of cold water. When this proved only a temporary solution and my arm started swelling up, I started to worry a little.
Again, I called my mother.
Now, Mom wanted me to go the hospital, but I was not so inclined. After finally convincing her a trip to the ER was not on the agenda, my mother went on to give a precise set of instructions for caring for my wound, including a list of symptoms to look for that would indicate I had an infection.
Over the past couple days I have been following Mom’s instructions carefully, and I am happy to report my injury has shown no signs of infection. In fact, the swelling is mostly gone, and it’s not really all that painful unless I touch it a little too hard.
Again, my mother’s plan was perfect. I told you mothers know everything, and I am going to have a scar in the shape of iron on my wrist to prove it.
Mikaylie Kartchner is a senior majoring in print journalism. Comments can be sent to mikayliek@cc.usu.edu.