It’s National Poison Control Week. The first ever. And of all months to rotate in Toxicology too, I know–haven’t anyone endorsed to them that I don’t have a passion for anything? So we had something set-up in Mall of Asia, some sort of exhibit composed of The Garden of Poisons, Under the Sea, and Under the Sink, featuring all sorts of poisonous stuff that can make you suffer but which you will eventually survive, with all the trauma and embarrassment. See, I said make suffer and survive from with much embarrassment and trauma, not kill you, so don’t get any ideas, suicidal ones. And since I didn’t want to have to tour anyone and explain anything, I assigned myself to the poster-making contest area for kids and doomed myself.
Surprisingly, random passersby, mostly families, would stop by and join the contest for no reason. Kids would just volunteer to draw for no reinforcement whatsoever. And the stage moms are there. I overheard one such stage mom coach her 7 year old boy, “more red here. No don’t color the crossbones pink.” She then proceeded to take a picture of the boy holding his finished product. And when I taped the said, er, masterpiece on the wall she took a picture of it with her digicam. She then looked at the photo she took on the digicam screen and muttered loudly to herself, “PERFECT”. I hope the boy wins. For his sake.