Pool Chemicals Cleverly Disguised as Take Out Are Bad for Business and Toddlers

As you may already be guessing, there was some harrowing ingestion of dubious substances over the MLK weekend.

Espen has a penchant for exploring various ways to experience forbidden or unknown substances as you might remember from the Dragon Pill Escapade. His fingers and mouth get more nimble by the day and in new environments, he is in particularly fine form.

So there we were, in our rented cabin in Welches, Oregon, mere minutes from snow heaven, Mt. Hood. We had food, good friends and plenty of ambition to take The Littles skiing for their first time.


Finn and Espen are exactly one week apart in age and have been a Force since birth. This has only intensified as they have grown, moving from activities like leaping off ottomans to trying to eat each other when one is not looking. Or willing.

It usually takes a minute for them to re-calibrate their brains to a reality with another creature their size and general shape, but once that settles in, a whole new probability emerges.

Which brings us back to the first morning of our Fabulous Ski Weekend. Like sensible parents, we had stayed up very late the previous night making merry and reveling in our lovely adult reality of Four Bigs and Two Littles. Pure luxury.

The next morning, we sensibly decided to go for an easy morning of sledding and to hit the slopes the following day.

Amid coffee and antsy kids, we progressed towards departure. Sent the boys outside to muck about in the contained back yard. Began humping the voluminous snow outfits and sleds to the cars.

I went to check on the boys. Found them by the hot tub, holding something.
Espen and Finn smiled at me.
Espen lifted a take-out dip container up to me with the lid off.
"Look mama!" he said proudly. inserting his finger into the fine white powder and placing it directly on his tongue.

Now, I know we didn't have take out the night before and that there was no way that container had ANYTHING in it I wanted Espen eating, so I did what any reasonable parent did.
I moved in slow motion and hollered.
"Espen! NOOOOOO!"

My mind was thinking, "Oh my god, he's eating two week old ranch. Or some left over cocaine from the last group to rent this place. Or a bunch of raw table salt. OH MY GOD."

That's my range. I'm not proud, it's just the spectrum I've learned to live with.

I grabbed the container, grabbed Espen, and raced into the cabin yelling, "SPIT! SPIT!"

I then proceeded to wash out his mouth whilst yelling at Tobias, "TASTE IT! FIND OUT WHAT IT IS!!!" Very cool. Very calm.

Espen thinks this is all very interesting, especially the part where I keep telling him to "Put water in your mouth but don't swallow! Swish and spit!"

Tobias comes over, says, "I put some on my tongue, it's kind of bitter and flat and hard to tell what it is. It doesn't seem particularly cholorine-y."

This barely registers in my brain. Why would any responsible person leave chemicals in a take out container at toddler height, knowing that toddlers were coming to the property?

Espen seems fine, so we load up and head into town for more coffee. Along the way, we decide to call poison control, just to be on the safe side. I try the substance on my tongue. It kind of tingles and tastes a bit like ascorbic acid, but it's definitely not a normal consumable.

We call the rental company Vacasa, to find out what the take out container held, but it's an answering service and we get no response.

Our conversation with poison control was pretty straight-forward.

"Hi. Our toddler ate an unidentified white powdery substance by a hot tub at a cabin we are staying at. We washed his mouth out. What now?"

Observation was the recommended course of action. And not going any further into the wilderness. Either we could watch him or a hospital could watch him. Sledding was out. Espen laughed happily in the back seat and demanded hot chocolate.

So we sent our friends to sled and Espen got to go to a park and run around in the rain while we watched him. And watched him. And watched a little more.

The little man played on, oblivious to our bird of prey parenting.

"Why aren't we on Mt. Hood?!" he yelled.
"Because you ate a random substance out of a take out container you found in a strange back yard."
"Why!"
"That's a good question. You must never, never eat things out of containers you find without asking an adult."
"Ok. I promise. Let's go to Mt. Hood."

We never did find out what the chemicals were because the company never called us back. You gotta love good customer service.