Tastes like the devil's taint.
Because I remembered that MF swore by it, the last time Lo had a bad cough, I purchased some Zicam. There are lots of varieties to choose from, but for coughs they offer a spray or "melts." I bought the spray, believing the novelty of it would be enticing to my daughter. I also knew it's nearly impossible to get her to swallow anything she can't dip in honey mustard.
As a seven-year-old who's the size of a ten-year-old, she required 3 or 4 squirts, but halfway through the quick third, her expression changed dramatically. She looked as though every corrupt secret of the Bush administration had been revealed to her. "Please, no more!" she begged.
"It can't be that bad," I said.
She seemed to have aged several years right before my eyes. Instead of throwing herself on the floor or running away screaming, as she would normally do, she just stood there, composed and with the conviction of someone who's come face to face with great evil and must deal with it and banish it directly or suffer it indirectly forever. "It is that bad," she replied evenly.
So I tried it. "See, no big deal," I chided, until the full force of it settled on my tongue. Let me say that, on the scale of parental guilt and shame, the way I felt after subjecting my little baby to that ranked right up there with showing up drunk at PTA .
Still, she didn't cough again for about six hours.
And since I've had my recent bout of whatever it is I'm about to go to a doc-in-the-box for (as soon as I finish this post), I've faced the decision several times: Suck it up and take the Zicam--endure the fiendish taste that is unlike any other--or cough until I puke up my Wheat Thins.
When I'm feeling strong enough, I take the Zicam.