Ah, the first child—often treated like a delicate piece of art, wrapped in metaphorical bubble wrap. In reality, we might just end up popping it for fun, but I digress. When it comes to my firstborn, it was a different story. I can vividly recall lunging at him like a secret service agent to wrest away a potentially hazardous paper towel from his mouth. Armed with my bare hands, I would pry open his tiny jaws, risking injury to rescue him from the clutches of a piece of dog food, as if it were a lethal pill.
Fast forward to my youngest munching on a paper towel, and my response? A casual shrug. I figured I’d deal with it later. The threat level felt more like a code yellow rather than a full-blown crisis. As I leisurely transitioned from dishwashing to dealing with my little one, I pondered whether it was even worth the risk of losing a finger to retrieve that soggy bit of paper. Let him eat paper, I thought. The dishes are piling up.
What’s even more surprising than finally retrieving that paper towel? Admitting that I occasionally wash dishes. I’m not one for adulting. I once told my partner that I was the “fun parent,” too cool for chores, while they kept everything running smoothly at home. That went over like a lead balloon.
There I was, the cool dad, scrubbing dishes while my son enjoyed a gourmet meal of Bounty paper towels. It’s not that I don’t care about my youngest—of course, I do! It’s just that I’m less anxious about the dangers of a little dog food or paper towel compared to when my first child was born.
After two years of parenting, it’s clear that kids will consume dirt, grass, and random objects galore. I went through a phase where I was convinced my son must be part mole-rat because every time we ventured outside, he’d devour dirt like it was candy. Diaper changes were always a surprise, with results looking more like beach sand than a standard poop.
Kids eventually grow out of that phase of needing to taste everything. But let’s face it: a baby is going to chew on household items. As long as you keep the dangerous stuff out of reach—like rat poison—most of the time, they’re generally safe. That said, there are definitely moments that induce panic.
Take the time my kids decided it would be fun to sip on something sweet. I’m not talking about maple syrup here; they managed to find the baby Benadryl in their diaper bag and had a mini party with it. After a few swigs and a frantic intervention, we found ourselves at the hospital, watching our kids look dazed and confused. That day, I lost any parenting gold stars I had, but hey, the baby bag is now safely stowed away. Lesson learned, moving on.
As a parent, you evolve alongside your child—not just in size (thanks to a few extra pounds) but also mentally and emotionally. There’s an entire growth process involved in discerning immediate dangers, whether it’s a choking hazard or a paper towel. I’m not advocating for a diet of paper products, because nobody has the budget for that. There are definitely more pressing concerns, such as whether your diaper bag is flattering your figure.
I know there are some who will chime in about the dangers of eating paper towels while simultaneously shoving hot dogs down their kids’ throats. Not judging here—hot dogs are a quick and delicious lunch option (and if you’re out of bread, paper towels can double as a makeshift wrap).
Sometimes, as parents, we need to let our kids learn through experience, even if it involves a little trial and error with their taste buds. After all, the kid munching on sticks won’t be picky come dinnertime. So, after navigating these parenting waters, I say, “Let them eat paper towels.”