On the final day of my recent imprisonment in NJ I had a visit from my mothers cousin.
My 'Aunt Mole'.
A little background. Aunt Mole can be over the top inappropriate; pretty much all of the time.
During my mothers memorial service she dramatically clutched me to her chest. "Ooohhhh, you poor thing" she bellowed, "You are ALL ALONE NOW!!!" (insert bawling on my shoulder here). I remember looking around the room at the gazillion people who were staring at me with great sympathy for this display.
While planning my bridal shower BF rang Aunt Mole to inform her that all of the bride's (me) Aunties were participating in planning the shower; you know, since I was ALL ALONE!. BF was met with silence. And then this....
"Maybe you should call the brides father and see if he will pay for it."
She hung up on BF (can you imagine?) who hadn't offered anything more then for Aunt Mole to be involved in the planning not the paying.
So, when said Aunt invited herself over to see my off spring I accepted with little choice and great trepidation. What kind of story would this visit yield?
I could never have imagined.
Aunt Mole came in with excitement to see my girl. She came with all but frankincense and myrrh; but I truly believe those things were only absent due to her being Jewish.
Her greedy paws shot outward for my baby.
"Wash your hands please" I asked.
"Humpft...I always wash my hands!" huffed Aunt Mole as she stomped towards the sink with disappointment.
I bit my tongue.
She returned and I promptly handed over the baby.
Now a little background (I know she is all of 3 months how much could there be?) on Miss Riley.
She is a super cool baby. She is chill, she is friendly, not much ruffles her feathers. She likes the action, she likes most people and she is very much the little social butterfly.
She did her duty for Aunt Mole. She sat quietly in her lap and tolerated the petting and pawing. She squawked when Aunt Mole went to cradle her. I chimed in, "She really likes to sit up." Aunt Mole huffed and sat Riley back up right.
At this point my daughter turns her head and looks at me for help.
And that is when it happened.
Aunt Mole kissed my girl. Right in the middle of her forehead. With dark. red. lipstick.
I bit my tongue, oh how I bit it! Years of loosing clothing and makeup jobs to this generation of woman flashed before my eyes. The woman in my family who have to slather dark. red. lipstick. on prior to any interaction with any other human being on the planet. Years of these woman kissing me, hugging me, bawling on me. With dark. red. lipstick.
I should have known, I should have foreseen it!
This is what happened next, so fast that I couldn't react.
Aunt Mole notices what she has done. She then smears the lipstick into a dark red stain across my child's head. She huffs.
She takes the burp cloth and rubs it over the babies forehead. Rubs rubs rubs.
She rubs harder.
She licks the cloth and rubs again.
At this point I see myself mentally sprinting across the room screaming "NOOOOOO!!!" but in reality I am still yet to move. I am in shock. I am aware that my mouth is hanging open and that my hand is up in the "Stop" position and that this woman is about to maul my child but still, I am frozen.
She rubs and rubs.
Aunt Mole licks her thumb and rubs again. Again, and again and again.
The now lighter red stain is creeping into Riley's hairline. The baby is looking at me for help. Her brow is furrowed and her boo-boo lip is starting to appear. The whine is grumbling low in her throat. She is going to cry.
Cry my child CRY!
No one, not even me who knows what Aunt Mole is capable of could have fathomed what would happen next.
Aunt Mole looked at the baby. The baby looked back with tears and mistrust in her eyes.
Aunt Mole leaned forward.
And licked her.
She licked her.
She licked my baby.
The woman I made wash her hands before touching her. Licked her.
On the head.
At this point I bolted forward. I whisked my now screaming child from her arms mumbling something about how "I could just get a wet wipe you know" and I raced away.
Riley looked up into my eyes. Through her tear and lipstick stained face she wailed accusingly.
I hear Aunt Mole mumble from behind me (because she followed me) something about how a wet wipe "might work", because you know, tongues are so much more affective.
After gently trying to remove the stain I silently resolved that I would need an actual a bath, actual soap and possibly an exfoliating substance to remove it.
The was baby still crying; I excused myself to nurse and calm her. Aunt Mole toddled after me and plopped down on the bed beside me.
I bit my tongue (which was almost bleeding at this point I assure you). I was over whelmed. Someone had just licked my child.
I hadn't even licked her. Forget that this scenario begs why you would lick a baby in the first place but who licks another persons baby???
Apparently, Aunt Mole.
The visit ended without further event (mainly because I soundly refused despite the under the breath huffing, to give the baby back to her).
Aunt Mole went to leave a short time later. Standing at the door she leaned in and gave me a hug good bye. No Kiss. Excellent.
She complimented me again on the wonders of my daughter. I thanked her sincerely.
Then, almost before I knew it, she kissed her.
Right on the cheek.
Bath time could not come fast enough.