Don’t eat the laundry detergent

Don’t run with scissors. Don’t stick that fork in the electrical outlet. Don’t play with matches. Don’t do drugs. Don’t drink and drive. Don’t text and drive. Don’t eat pop rocks and drink Coke. Don’t eat the laundry detergent.

Wait? What did I just have to tell my kids? Don’t eat the laundry detergent? Is this really something we have to add to our parenting arsenal? Sadly, yes, I believe it is.

Back in my day, washing your mouth out with soap was a punishment. These days, it’s what the kids do for fun on the internet.

I get it. We’ve all been kids. We’ve all done dumb things. Granted, this one seems just a little bit dumber than typical kid stuff, but still, I get it. Kids have been trying wacky things since the Olympians overthrew the Titans, and if the current generation is any indication, the tradition is likely to continue.

In my opinion, this kind of thing is the obvious outcome to helicopter parenting and extending baby-proofing into the teenage years. When we take away all the sticks, stones and cardboard boxes, and the unsupervised free time, and the being locked out of the house to play until dinner time, well, it seems that all they have left is the laundry detergent.

Once again, I find myself at the curious intersection of wanting to keep my babies safe and sound and wanting my future adults to learn a few things the hard way so that they never, ever make that mistake again.

It’s always scary when the lesson involves poison, and the consequences can go from zero to fatal in no time flat. It’s also scary when you know that your kid really truly does know better, but like all kids, they’re part lemming, so if one of their friends suggests it or tries, it, chances are they will, too.

As I was also the child who found a can of starter fluid in the back of my parents’ 1970-something Plymouth, and since it looked like a can of soda, and since I was never allowed to have soda, I thought I had hit the jackpot, and proceeded to drink it, I can kind of relate to this particular dilemma.

(Fun fact: the starter fluid acted as an emetic, and combined with what I’m sure was a frantic, high-speed drive to the hospital, I proceeded to vomit the entire contents of my stomach all over the elevator doors, and other than leaving a disgusting mess for maintenance to clean up, the whole thing was over before it started.)

Not wanting to give my kids ideas, but also not wanting to find a body with a foamy mouth in the laundry room, I simply asked the three of them if we really needed to discuss why we shouldn’t eat laundry detergent, or put any other household chemical in our mouths.

Of course, I was met with eyerolls and, “seriously, Mom.” G was quick to point out that he doesn’t even know where we keep the laundry detergent, although if he had to guess, he thinks it might be in the laundry room.

He deduced that one all by himself, and here I worry if he’s smart enough not to eat a laundry pod. Silly me.

To be fair, my kids are well-schooled in the handling of chemicals, thanks to the many at-home science projects we do, and the pods turned into another one.

We carefully dissected one in the kitchen, and discussed how the divisions of the pod kept the different reagents compartmentalized, and we also talked about how certain elements are activated when they meet water.

Since it’s winter time, and we have ice melt readily available, we also did some experimentation with some calcium chloride and learned all about exothermic reactions.

At the end of the day, after watching the fizzes and the bubbles, and feeling the heat that was created when just a little water was added to the right chemicals, I once again asked them if they were at all tempted to eat laundry detergent, and the answer was a resounding no.

They even graciously offered to stop any of their friends who might be thinking about a taste test.

I’d like to think that giving them a reason and making sure they understand why something is dangerous is better than just putting my foot down and saying don’t do it because some moron on the internet died.

After all, I spent most of my childhood avoiding pop rocks and coke like the plague, and it turns out, that was just an urban legend, although you still won’t find me mixing them up and taking a chug.

And I certainly won’t be filming it for YouTube.

Liz Pinkey is a contributing writer to the Times News. Her column appears weekly in our Saturday feature section.