Like so many, I take a low dose aspirin daily. It has spiked interest in the orange chewable tablet once found in every family medicine cabinet.
We didn’t have sweets in our home. It was a deliberate choice, a way to avoid those hefty dental bills for a large family.
Desserts were never served at meals, candy only at Halloween, or in an Easter basket. Sodas were reserved for family celebrations, a few times a year. Homemade cookies and pastries were rare.
But we had St Joseph’s in a glass bottle, with a screw top, long before child-safety packaging. It was stored over the bathroom sink, in an accessible medicine cabinet.
Right next to the chocolate Ex-Lax, and the cherry flavored Vicks cough drops.
It’s a memory of early childhood. The St. Joseph’s incident.
My grandmother discovered the near-empty bottle and went into panic overdrive.
Who had eaten the aspirin ? We toddlers were summoned.
When I saw how upset she was, I confessed.
But I hadn’t done it. And my grandmother was not convinced.
My older sister maintained her silence. She was calculating her response.
“It wasn’t me, Grandmom”, but her words were spoken through sugary orange teeth.
Like the cherry cough drops, which seemed pretty harmless.
And about that chocolate Ex-Lax ?
My lips are sealed.