Attack of the slime monsters

Why are films like «Alien» or «Attack of the Body Snatchers» produced? To the best of my radically subjective recollection, the main thing in these works is, um, slime. Goo that threatens the innocent, an alien intelligence made of splattering slime that has it in for poor humanity.
You have similar problems with children. If you really want to get to grips with slime, just deal with babies. They are born from slime and we don't really want to know that they will eventually die in it again. After all, you also have to deal with it on the go and not in short supply.
Especially at the beginning. With babies, there's slime and slime everywhere - and the whole thing even follows a certain dramaturgy. A baby shuffles into the world as a little worm in a cheese-smeared coat. Well fed and nourished, it soon excretes its first milky faeces. At first this is harmless, this poo doesn't really steam and stinks in masses. Only the masses become a problem when the baby thrives, drinks more and more happily and relieves itself accordingly, preferably full into the nappy and beyond. This is not very good for the baby's body or the mother's nerves. Especially if she is travelling during the explosive emission, on the train for example, and if her invincible sense of cleanliness is up to the task of tackling the catastrophe immediately. This then also affects their fellow travellers and often leads to serial disgust, horror or even a flight-like change of seats. A shitty situation for everyone.

«Sweet child, but could you hold it for a moment, I need a shower.»

However, this is just the beginning of the climax of mucus that the baby years turn out to be. It doesn't stop there, soon the little ones will also be passing fluids orally. Some babies burp discreetly, others are born vomitors, like my husband's nephew back then. Fat, cute and rosy, he lay in his cot and attracted unsuspecting aunts and uncles with his baby-like bioluminescence. And as soon as they took him in their arms with «Well you sweet little one»: Splash! Two deci of half-digested breast milk on his blouse or shirt. «Sweet child, but could you hold it for a moment, I need to take a shower.» In the meantime, my nephew has grown up so much that the problem has been solved for the time being. It will probably only arise again the first time he drinks too much beer.
Well, the baby doesn't drink milk forever and what heralds the little bites? Exactly, drool. Babies drool and drool. They pull strings during their first attempts at crawling, which can be traced by the trail of mucus through the home. But they are also happy to slobber on their parents and other relatives, while the baby beams happily with a toothless mouth. It uses its newly acquired coordination skills for creative experiments in which the tireless secretions are enriched with tasty treats. Pureed beetroot or dried bread, and all this is then used on clothes and kitchen walls. There's porridge, baby, pitsch, patsch, Klitsch, mud - it goes on like this all the time.
The phase passes. But not the slime. You're never really immune to it. Right now, for example, it's high season - for everyone. First the little ones get sick and when babies catch a cold, they mutate into real snot throwers. Viruses and bacteria turn lungs, noses and hearing organs into powerful snot factories, always on the go to break the record for gross domestic production of mucus.
Parents don't usually like this. Mainly because the mucus also likes to attack their organs and they run to the pharmacy to get those little plugs that can be used to suck out the mucus. Or could, because at this time of year, all the pumps are sold out because all the other babies are also making a mucus fuss. And because it gets worse and worse, the parents run to the doctor, but there the waiting room is as congested as the noses of the little patients, and then only one thing helps: to get a powerful suction pump from the construction company they trust. It's the only way to beat the mucus.
Kind of disgusting, yes. But well, that's our species. Why invent aliens?
Tages-Anzeiger/Mamablog

About the author
Michèle Binswanger is a graduate philosopher, journalist and author. She writes on social issues, is the mother of two children and lives in Basel.