So a while back, my husband had pink eye. It was a horrible experience and my husband found out that I'm way more afraid of and grossed out by pink eye than I am of any blood and guts disease.
My son went to a birthday party at a gym place (the same type of place my husband thought he caught the Pink Eye from). The next day, Sunday he started rubbing at his eye. I flipped out and started trying to make plans for who could watch him the next day, because there was no way I was going to send my son to school to pass pink eye around.
As sanity returned to me, I took a closer look at his eye and realized, no, it was not pink eye. His conjunctiva (the inner tissue of the eye) was totally fine, it was just his eyelid he kept rubbing at. Whew! I was relieved, but then started talking with my husband, saying that we hoped that when he went to school the next day, they wouldn't think that he had pink eye and try to send him home. At this point, my son's ear perked up and he said, "Pink Eye". My husband's look could have killed me. "Nice job," he said.
I suavely said, "yeah, do you remember the pink guy at the pool? My son looked at me questioning and then I went on to talk about a guy who was pink at the pool and the conversation flowed on. He thought he heard pink eye, I clarified it was a pink guy. The last thing I needed was him to go to school and say, "I have pink eye" or put it in someone's head, so we talked quite a bit about a pink guy. It all actually brought back some memories from vet school for me- Cattle actually have a form of infectious conjunctivitis. It was called (they change bacteria names on a frequent basis) Moraxella bovis- the little thing that helped me remember this was saying, "Max Bovis, Private Eye" that is how I remembered the name of the bacteria and the disease that it caused. Maybe I should have included Max Bovis in my son's Pink Guy story.... Let's just say I'm relieved his eye looks totally better today so no misunderstandings to worry about.
My son had an interesting comment last night- he told me he wanted to be an astronaut who doesn't go into space. "Why don't you want to go into space?" his response was, "I like gravity." "Why do you like gravity?" was my response and then he said, "because I don't want to float- I want to walk on my two feet." I wonder if he will think the same in another ten years.