“I wish I’d thought of this when I was supervising the after school program,” I typed back.

No matter what activity I came up with, the children used to sigh tragically and protest “Do we have to?” I am sure, however, they would have been more than happy to squirm sluglike on a buttered floor. No doubt the boys would have invented some kind of slug wrestling, giving the expression “slugging it out” a whole new meaning. The school cafeteria director and the maintenance staff might not have been so enthusiastic. I can see that. But still.

Then my friend sent me a private message to inform me that her slug joke was not her own, but a boilerplate come-on intended “to promote breast cancer awareness.” How confessing to play slug in a sleeping bag on a greased floor might promote breast cancer awareness was not explained, but, since I had replied, I was asked to pass along the message to others. Tag, you’re it!

There have been other breast cancer awareness activities on Facebook in recent years. The gist is to post an embarrassing or slightly shocking personal statement, or to mention the color of the bra you’re wearing that day, or “where you like to have it” (where you put your handbag when you come home). You know, like, “in the closet,” or “on the La-Z-Boy recliner,” or whatever.

Even though I was quite taken with the buttered slug motif – just add a little garlic and you could play escargot, giving it a sophisticated French variation – I was annoyed at the suggestion that such games promote breast cancer awareness. They trivialize the subject. Nor do these Facebook games promote donating to worthy research funds or getting medical check-ups.

Why do we all have to be made more aware of cancer anyway? I don’t know anyone who doesn’t have some section of his or her brain taped off like a crime zone, labeled DANGER! CANCER! Cancer awareness lurks within us all, never far from our consciousness.

When I wrote to the Breast Cancer Society to ask whether this organization promotes such so-called awareness activities, I received this reply: “We agree that pranks are not suitable for a matter like breast cancer. We are not publishing anything of the sort.”

Of course now, with ebola dominating the news, it is difficult to be aware of anything else. Shark awareness. Tornado awareness. Airplane crash awareness. Tsunami awareness. Bird flu awareness. What is that really venomous kind of spider? All of these have gone by the board. I’m sure if we put our minds to it we could think of more unpleasant things to be reminded of.

I would rather think about baby clothes. Listen: Yes, little girls get to wear pink and purple dresses and sparkly shoes, and they carry magic wands and flowers. Still, we believe that clothes make the man, and I have noticed recently that this truism extends to baby boys.

Can you imagine family reunions over the holidays, with relatives vying to dress the new baby in their own image? Uncle Phil and Aunt Binda gave him this tiny football uniform. Look, he’s all boy!

T-shirts put words in his mouth: “I Love Mommy.” “University of Michigan.” At least so far I haven’t seen any political slogans.

Some baby boys wear tiny business suits, with ties. Jack’s paternal grandparents live in Cape Cod, and they favor nautical themes. If he is wearing a dapper little sailor suit or a sweet outfit with anchors embroidered on it, it’s probably from them. What did I buy him?

A red and black buffalo plaid flannel shirt – very Adirondack. A navy blue pea coat and Osh Kosh blue jeans, for that Sixties look. I stopped short of a tie-dyed T-shirt.

Well, better sign off and wash the kitchen floor before someone slips and falls and we have to hear about broken hip awareness.

Have a good week.