Behold! The Pod People!

They've come to take over your brain... and they all seem to be congregating around the spinny toys.

My youngest little Buccanneer, the Z Monkey, has this thing with his eyelashes. First, they're ridiculous. We're talking long, curling, thick, Elizabeth Taylor-esque eyelashes. As someone who fights with the mascara wand on a regular (oh, who are we kidding, once a month TOPS) basis, it's sickening. They're just gorgeous.

They're also a pain- literally. The kid has these 4-5 lashes on the outer corner of his left eye that like to get a little rowdy, like to buck the system and actually grow INSIDE BACKWARDS. What that means is that his eyelashes, rather than flashing and curling beautifully like the rest, flip around and grow INSIDE HIS EYELID AND BACK AROUND HIS LITTLE EYEBALL.

I'll pause now for you to shudder and cringe and maybe even throw up a little.

When Z was three, he blinked. A lot. Like he was sending morse code messages to the people around us. At first we thought "well, the kid just blinks." Then we took him to the doctor who said "Huh. Haven't seen that before." Want to feel totally reassured by your pediatrician? Have them say THAT. Makes me feel AWESOME. So they pulled out their magic book, gave us a little card and told us to go see the opthomologist at Children's Mercy the next month, where they'd determine if it was an eye issue or if my kid had neurological problems. Sweet.

Turns out, it was all in the eyes. So impressed was Dr. Olitsky- who happens to be the section chief- that he called in approximately 47 other opthomologists in training to stare at my toddler's eye. "Amazing!" "Incredible!" "They're so long!" I wasn't sure whether I should be proud or terrified. Eventually they called me over to look through the mutant cyclops helmet cam, into my kid's eye. Sure enough, there were four 

lashes, wrapping their way backwards and around the eyeball.

*pause for cringing*

They fixed it that day, and we've been lucky enough to not have issues with it for two years. Then on Tuesday, the Z began compaining that his eyes hurt. They were scratchy. After pinning him to the carpet and bribing him with chocolate, I managed to peel back his eyelid and see that, sure enough, the little curly tentacles of doom were wrapping their way back. So it was off to CMH once more.

If you go into a kids' opthomology department, the lights are all low and soothing, and the first thing I think is "Mood lighting?" Then one of the little darlings scampers up to you, flashes you a smile,a nd GOOD GOD, ITS THE POD PEOPLE! See, they dilate the little buggers WIDE open. So what should be a nice, clean, lovely office waiting room is rendered creepy and uncomfortable. I mean, you try sitting there calmly with all of those creepy little black orbs drilling into your soul, stealing your thoughts, using them to plan the revolution. I'm just sayin.

Once Z was all Podded up and his eyeballs were numbed and turned yellow (yes, yellow. I'm not sure why they did it, but he was really excited that he'd look like our cat), the doc went in with his pokey thing and pulled the eyelashes back outside the eye. Yes, it's as gross as it sounds. Then they have to pluck out the offending lashes. That's a good time. The kid was a trooper though, which always confounds me. I try to take a piece of tape off his arm and he screams like he's being dunked in boiling oil and served up fresh to the demons of hell. A man with a thick Russian accent, saying "You are big boy! Tough, I see!" like some pediatric trainer from Rocky IV, that guy goes in and YANKS OUT HIS EYELASHES... and the kid doesn't flinch. I flinched, I'll tell you that. And I'm pretty sure his big brother threw up a little.

Nevertheless, the kid is good for, hopefully, another two years. They gave him the awesome junior version of the South Florida dog track special cataract sunglasses and sent us off into the heat once more... but not before he used his Pod People skills into convincing me that nothing would heal him more than 4 McNuggets and a Dr. Pepper. What the hell? The kid doesn't even get caffeine, and there I was, ordering it up. It's a good thing he's just six and hasn't used his powers for evil. Much.

Only he could make these look good.