The Life of A Batty Broad

Good Intentions, Flawed Results

I Was a Childhood Junkie

I can’t prove it but I am certain that child-proof caps were invented because of me.  It’s not my fault.  Those little pills were so pretty, so colorful and also they tasted like oranges.  Who could resist their candy-like taste and the clearly child-enticing bottle?

baby aspirin

I ate about half a bottle and then the adults started freaking out.  Doctors were called.  I was chastised.  The recommended course of action by the doctor was for me to drink orange soda.  I’m not sure why.  Maybe he was Dr. Willy Wonka and he thought fizzy lifting drinks would relieve my symptoms.  My mother, who didn’t let me have candy or soda, was forced to allow me to drink the sugary deliciousness.  There was no stopping me now.


Baby aspirin was my gateway narcotic, then came Flintstones vitamins.  Again, this was not my fault.  My cousin and I were left overnight with my Nana.  Unfortunately Nana was a bit of an alcoholic.  Even more unfortunate, she decided that this night was a good one to fall off the wagon. Hard.


This led to my cousin and I fending for ourselves.  Since we weren’t able to cook for ourselves and Nana was already cooked, I used my burgeoning problem solving skills to find sustenance.  Choices were limited and the most appealing thing available, in our 5 year old minds, was Flintstones vitamins.  We sat on the floor together and divided them up fairly, which was most likely the first and last time that happened.  A Dino for you, a Dino for me.  We sat with our little piles of character shaped, fruit-flavored goodness and ate while Nana slept next to us on the floor. a61cf9733fb833fc50082a6e745083e3

This time the adults freaked out a little less at us and little more at Nana.  Doctors were called but not for me.  Apparently the vitamins didn’t hurt us, we are still alive, but it might provide some insights into questions that my therapist could never quite answer.


You think this would have stopped me but once you taste the fruity-flavored dragon, you just can’t stop chasing it.  Other than a spectacularly colorful tongue and a few cavities, nothing had happened that would deter my need to open those bottles and see what was inside.  As with all junkies, the day comes when you just go to far.


That day came on a trip to Canada with my parents.  I was put down for a nap with my Canadian cousin in our Grandmothers room.  There on the dresser was a bottle with a pre-childproof cap.  I could not resist.  The contents of this bottle didn’t look anything like the baby aspirin or the Flinstone’s vitamins. I decided they were probably candy anyway.  Being the generous sort of person I am, I shared my new stash with my cousin.  Fortunately we were discovered before we ingested too many.  Unfortunately the pills were phenobarbital.


Fortunately, syrup of ipecac worked brilliantly and I threw up all over my mother.  Well, not so fortunate for her.  Unfortunately, my cousin did not have a gag reflex and had to have her stomach pumped.  Fortunately, everyone survived.  Unfortunately I think I was banned from Canada.

No Canada

That was it.  The end of my junkie ways.  I had discovered that bottles with easy to open caps don’t always have candy in them.  I also discovered that throwing up forcefully was not an experience that I wanted to repeat. Ever.  I’m sure my mother would agree with that sentiment.

The next time you go to open a bottle of medicine and can’t get that damn childproof cap off you can feel free to blame me.  I won’t take it personally.  Also if you plan to hang out with me there is a definite possibility you might be banned from something, possibly a whole country.

You have been warned.

The Batty Broad Podcast of this episode: 

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