In the past four or five months, I've developed a pretty impressive knack (If I may say so) with Charlie's medication. I drop a pill into a big bottle cap, get the temperature of the water just right, and splash in no more than half an ounce. After waiting for the pill to dissolve into its tiny constituent capsules, I gently suck capsules and a sixth-ounce of water into a dropper. The capsules settle to the bottom, where they are held by surface tension until I put the dropper in Charlie's mouth and squeeze as he sucks the liquid down. Another dropperful for stray capsules, and a third to rinse everything down his gullet. It's gotten easier as he's become better at cooperating, and I've grown ever defter with repetition. It's a wonder to behold.
Guess what: Charlie can now suck on his own damn pills for the minute or so it takes for them to dissolve. And what with starting to teethe, he has plenty of saliva to wash the bits down. Another painstakingly acquired, absolutely crucial skill rendered obsolete. I feel just like a manufacturing worker replaced by a robot, only completely different.