Let Them Eat Paper Towels

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When it comes to the first child, they often feel like they’re wrapped in bubble wrap—figuratively, of course. I mean, if we did it literally, we’d probably just end up with a mess of popped bubbles that would create more chaos than safety. But let’s be honest, popping bubble wrap is a blast!

Anyway, back to my firstborn. We all know how we tend to fuss over our first kids. It’s not that I don’t care about my younger one, but I distinctly recall the time I dove across the room like a secret service agent to wrestle a potentially harmful piece of paper towel from my first son’s mouth. I’d pry open their tiny jaws at the risk of losing a finger, all in the name of safety—because who knows, that paper towel could’ve been like a cyanide capsule.

Then there was the day I caught my youngest munching on a paper towel. I shrugged it off, thinking, “I’ll get to it eventually.” The danger level was a mere code yellow, not DEFCON 4 like it was with his older brothers. As I slowly transitioned from washing dishes to rescuing him, I even debated if getting a bite mark on my finger was worth the trouble. Let him chew on paper, I thought. These dishes aren’t going to wash themselves.

What’s even more alarming than the fact that I eventually got the paper towel out of my son’s mouth? It’s admitting that I occasionally handle household chores. I once told my partner that I was the fun parent, too busy being cool to worry about cleaning—while they took on the responsibility of maintaining order. That went over just swimmingly.

So there I was, the “cool” dad washing dishes while my little one enjoyed a snack of Bounty’s finest. It’s not that I don’t care about my youngest’s well-being; I do. I’m just less anxious about him choking on a bit of paper towel or a stray piece of dog food.

After two years of parenting, it’s clear that kids are going to chow down on dirt, grass, and anything they can find. I went through a phase where I swore my son was part mole-rat because he would eat dirt like it was gourmet food. It always catches you off guard when you change a diaper and find what looks like a tiny beach scene instead of a regular mess.

Kids eventually grow out of that phase of needing to taste everything. But let’s face it, babies are going to chew on whatever they can get their hands on. As long as you keep the hazardous stuff, like rat poison, out of reach, they’re usually safe. And I say “usually” because there are moments that spark absolute panic.

One time, my kids decided to get adventurous with some syrup. Not the breakfast kind, but baby Benadryl. They dug into the diaper bag and managed to figure out the child safety cap before passing the sweet liquid around like it was a party favor. After a few gulps, we had to intervene and head to the hospital, where they looked like they were high on allergy meds. It was a moment that definitely cost me my parenting gold star, but hey, the baby bag has since been relocated. Lesson learned.

As parents, we’re meant to grow alongside our kids—not just physically, because we all know about those “parent pounds,” but mentally and emotionally too. There’s a whole maturation process where we learn to distinguish between what’s a real threat and, well, a piece of paper towel. I’m not suggesting you let your kid munch on rolls of paper towels as their main course—after all, paper products are pricey, and no one wants to foot that bill. There are other pressing matters, like whether the baby bag makes your rear look good or not.

I know some might point out that eating paper towels isn’t the best idea while they’re feeding their kids hot dogs. I’m not judging—hot dogs are a delicious quick fix! Sometimes, as parents, we have to let our kids learn through trial and error. After all, the kid who eats sticks probably won’t be picky about dinner. So, after years of trial and error, I say, “Let them eat paper towels.”

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Summary

Parenting often leads to a relaxed attitude towards what kids eat, like paper towels. The author shares humorous anecdotes about their parenting journey, illustrating the differences in how we treat our firstborn compared to younger siblings, and the lessons learned along the way.