The Mad Scientist and the Case of the Butt-Pills

One thing that is very different here in France is the medicine. In the US, we have lots of pills; The majority of all medicine is in pill or syrup form. This is very convenient and easy to use, from my perspective.

A couple days ago, Arthur began to complain of a sore throat. He called his mom, and laid out the medicine she instructed him to take. There was a syrup, a spray, and a large, white pill in plastic packaging. To me, this seemed a little overboard. The kid just has a sore throat, one that mysteriously appears when his brother or sister says they don’t feel will. I would have told him to drink some warm milk, and checked back later. But 3 different medicines?

Whatever, I thought. It’s not my decision. She can pump him with whichever meds she chooses. Following orders, I measured the correct dose of the syrup, and helped him squirt and ample amount of the spray (issued from a rather awkward- looking bottle), and then he pulled down his pants and held up the pill.

Completely caught off guard, I began to laugh. Q’est-ce que c’est ca? I asked the semi-nude toddler. The smile was wiped off my face when he asked me to stick it up his butt.

Turning to Philippine with an incredulous look on my face, I asked her about this. She responded matter-of-factly that there were lots of butt pills, for lack of the medical term, and her mom uses them frequently on the children.

Thoroughly grossed out, I refused to stick it up yonder when the 5-year old bent over in front of my face. Antoine courageously took up the job. If Arthur was seriously ill with a bad flu, or had some chronic illness, then, yes, I would step up to the plate. But there was no way that I was putting my hand up there for a measly sore throat that had already been treated with a likely very effective syrup and a spray. Seriously.

After that entertaining episode, things returned to violent, screaming normal. To retain some amount of sanity, I turned on the T.V., and like the calm after a great storm, silence descended onto the house. With about an hour and a half of free time before the parents got home, I decided to put a certain theory to test.

When Geraldine gets home everyday, she always complains about how dirty things are, how things are improperly arranged, or that the kids didn’t clean something. This criticism comes despite how hard I try to keep up with the kids, both in cleaning and preventing them from killing each other. Having only received the very rare thank you, I decided to see what would happen it I upped the ante, so to speak.

Using the ‘everyday clean’ kitchen (response: criticism) as my control, I formed the basis for my experiment. I hypothesized that if an ‘everyday clean’ kitchen attracted criticism, then an ‘immaculate’ one should cancel the negativity, perhaps crossing absolute zero and generating some positive feed back. With a hypothesis and two long month’s worth of background research, I set out to find answers.

My materials used were few: the french equivelent of Windex, 409, paper towels, and a sponge. I also used my digital running watch to record time.

My procedure was simple: dirt-demolition. I commenced at 17:55:43. I cleaned the floors. I put all the little things the parents left out away; I cleaned their dishes from the night before. I cleaned all the shoes. I ran and unloaded the dishwasher. I arranged the silver wear and the fruit. I took out the trash and recycle-ables. I scrubbed the sink and the stovetops. I washed the windows. I cooked dinner for the kids and then I washed all those pots as well. It was the kitchen of Mr. Clean himself. When the time came, I was ready for the most essential part of the trial.

19:30:08 Right on schedule, the subject arrived home.

19:31:01 Subject entered the house. The kids were seated at spotless table, eating their meal, while I attentively monitored her every facial movement and vocal emission.

19:31: 35 Subject saw the arranged shoes, toys, and fruit as well as the ‘immaculate’ kitchen with alert, sweeping, slightly squinted eyes. Subject tossed her briefcase on the kitchen chair with a half smile to me and the children and a formal bon soir. She then proceeded to the computer and began searching Internet.

19:33:17 I noted no movement or vocal activity from subject. She was completely absorbed in emails and stocks.

19:45:56 Children had finished dinner. Subject withdrew from computer activity to question Antoine about the tutoring today. I was dismissed nonchalantly from the room.

Conclusion: I found this to be a very interesting outcome. It seems that I received an absolute zero, but if you count the general half smile directed at me and 3 children, I would say that the reaction crossed, however slightly, into positive territory. If I also factor in the amusement generated and secretive smirk residing my face, then I would say that I came away with a little something more. After all, it is quite fun to perform secret experiments on people. Especially when they react exactly as predicted.