Reading Labels

I never used to read labels. When I was growing up I didn't have to - Mom didn't have anything in the house that might be unhealthful. Come to think of it, I wasn't big on reading directions, either. I've been known to start a test, only to realize half way through that I was supposed to be looking for antonyms rather than synonyms... And I've had some rather unsuccessful attempts in the kitchen for the same reason... (which is why I'll always prefer cooking to baking. Baking leaves no room for improvisation - or shoddy recipe reading.)

Labels, directions, operating instructions for the simplest of devices - they just seemed unnecessary - like they've been put there simply because they were 'required'. If you really needed them, why would they be marginalized into insignificance by miniscule print?

I'm still not going to pore over the enclosed manual before I use my new toaster. But these days it's especially important to be aware of what you're consuming - when much of what's packaged as "food" is so far removed from its natural state that it can hardly be considered the same substance. (How can they even call genetically modified foods 'food' - when they comprise viruses, and genes not found in their own species?)

The other day I was reminded of the value of label reading when my husband said, as he was wiping his face with a cotton pad, "I've been using this minty face stuff on my skin. It's pretty good... It feels a little weird, though..." "What face stuff?" I asked, pretty sure we didn't have any mint toner in the house. "This," he said, holding up the bottle that was standing by the sink. I started laughing.

"What? It's cleanser." he protested, showing me the label that read, in large letters, "Tom's: Natural, Cleansing". (And I have to mention that my husband has been more than tolerant of my 'all natural' products. He's never complained that I don't have brands like Crest and Scope in the house, or that I won't let him use aluminum-containing anti-perspirants... ) I pointed to the next word, father down, and in smaller typeset: "Mouthwash".