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falcongrrlSo, I finally got a doctor's appointment scheduled for 4:15 pm today.
I was thrilled. About as thrilled as you can be about going to the doctor.
It was time to leave, about 3:30 or so, and I realized that I hadn't had anything for lunch yet. I didn't have any cash and Dave had both of the debit cards with him. So I started rummaging through the fridge.
Something easy...that I can take in the car...something not too terrible for me...
And there, shoved way back into the fridge, were the Lunchables that Dave and Daniel had picked up at the grocery store (along with chocolate ice cream) on a father-son outing where I teased them fairly mercilessly about all the junk they bought. Daniel had been extremely excited about the Lunchables, and then promptly forgotten about them, possibly because they had sort of gotten pushed back behind lots of other stuff in the refrigerator.
I wasn't very excited about having a Lunchable for lunch, but it met the requirements of quick and portable. I looked at both of them. Cracker Stacker...or Pizza. Pizza looked kind of intriguing, if slightly more difficult to eat. The crackers were larger than normal, more like a pizza crust, and there were little pepperonis and cheese with which to decorate it.
I checked the date since they'd bought them so long ago, but it was well within the time, so all was well. I grabbed it, my phone, the checkbook, a novel to read in the office and my keys and left.
During the drive, I realized that either I was hungrier than I thought or those Lunchables, especially the pizza ones, were pretty damn tasty. I covered two of the faux pizza crusts with cheese and pepperonis before glimpsing the packet of tomato sauce at the bottom. So my third was the best of the lot, with lots of sauce and cheese and pepperoni. And then a little candy bar to eat for dessert! Yum!
So, I went to the doctor's office, where I found out I have bronchitis and got drugs. More on that later. Then on to pick up the kids and pick up Dave (who sprained his ankle badly yesterday and now can't walk or drive) and drop the prescriptions off at the pharmacy and come home.
Here's where the trouble starts. Dinner is running behind what passes for a schedule in our house, so Daniel gets permission to have a snack.
Perhaps I should have placed the other Lunchable back into its former hiding place. I'm sure I just hurriedly threw it in the fridge before heading out to the doctor's office. Which is why, when I'm lying on my bed, nursing the two-year-old (and yes, she still nurses, so sue me), the four-year-old bursts into the room.
"Mommy!" he yells loudly. "Mommy! I hate to have to believe this, but I think you ate a Lunchable!"
"Um, yes..." I begin.
"I hate to have to believe it, but I think you ate the pizza Lunchable!" This with a wail rising at the end of the sentence.
"Well," I start. "Well, I was going to the doctor, and I remembered I hadn't had lunch yet, and I needed something that I could take in the car, and, well, I saw those Lunchables that you and Daddy bought at the store, and, yes. I ate one."
"Mommy," he says somewhat sorrowfully, "Mommy did you eat the pizza one?!"
"Yes," I say.
Anguished cry. Tears, yes, tears begin to pour down his cheeks.
"I can't believe you ate the pizza lunchable! You knew that was my favorite!! YOU KNEW!!!"
I'm torn between the impulse to hold him and wipe away his tears and the one to burst out laughing. For the moment, I twist my lips together and reach my hands out. It's the tears that do it. I can't laugh at his tears.
He glares at me.
What follows is a sobbing diatribe that I can't begin to set down word for word. Paraphrased, it goes something like this: What kind of a mommy would EAT a lunchable that was bought specifically for her child? Not only a lunchable, but a pizza lunchable, one that she knew was his favorite. And she ate it anyway.
I start to get a little tired of this, tears notwithstanding.
"I've never even seen you eat a pizza lunchable before," I say.
No, he eats them all the time, and I know he does.
I try again. "Didn't Daddy tell me that you were eating the other lunchable, just now?"
"Yes," he wails piteously. "But the only thing I like in that one is the cheese and the candy bar!!!" He sobs again.
"Not the crackers?" I say drily.
He sniffles. "Well, okay," he says. "Okay. Actually, I do like the Ritz Crackers too. But not as much as the pizza one! And I hate bologna!!"
This goes on before he finally stomps out of the room.
Next my husband comes in to ask about it.
"Did you..." he begins.
"Yes, I did," I say.
"The pizza one?" he asks.
Which is how I find myself in Publix after a trip to the pharmacy, staring at the cold cuts aisle.
While there are none exactly like the pizza lunchable I ate, there are at least five different varieties of pizza lunchable. Pizza breadstick. Pizza. Deep dish pizza. Pizza Cracker Stacker. 4 Food Groups Pizza. All Lunchables. All.
There really must be something wrong with a society that has 5 different kinds of pizza-flavored prepackaged processed cold cut lunch items, and in which last week's lunchable has suddenly, inexplicably, been rendered obsolete.
And I wonder what D and I are teaching our child. I worry that we're teaching him 'the squeaky wheel gets the grease'. That we're encouraging a lack of respect for parental decision-making ability and authority.
At the same time, the rule in college (from what I remember) was always that if you eat your roommate's food, you buy a replacement.
He is my child. And I did eat something, knowing it was his, trusting he wouldn't remember. Not one of the worst things I've ever done, to be sure. But perhaps not one of the best either.
Maybe I made a mistake and fixed it.
I bought two '4 Food Groups Pizza' Lunchables for Daniel. And, yes, if you must know, two plain Pizza ones for me.
And if Ellie looks at me with those big brown eyes, then I just might share.
A+
I was thrilled. About as thrilled as you can be about going to the doctor.
It was time to leave, about 3:30 or so, and I realized that I hadn't had anything for lunch yet. I didn't have any cash and Dave had both of the debit cards with him. So I started rummaging through the fridge.
Something easy...that I can take in the car...something not too terrible for me...
And there, shoved way back into the fridge, were the Lunchables that Dave and Daniel had picked up at the grocery store (along with chocolate ice cream) on a father-son outing where I teased them fairly mercilessly about all the junk they bought. Daniel had been extremely excited about the Lunchables, and then promptly forgotten about them, possibly because they had sort of gotten pushed back behind lots of other stuff in the refrigerator.
I wasn't very excited about having a Lunchable for lunch, but it met the requirements of quick and portable. I looked at both of them. Cracker Stacker...or Pizza. Pizza looked kind of intriguing, if slightly more difficult to eat. The crackers were larger than normal, more like a pizza crust, and there were little pepperonis and cheese with which to decorate it.
I checked the date since they'd bought them so long ago, but it was well within the time, so all was well. I grabbed it, my phone, the checkbook, a novel to read in the office and my keys and left.
During the drive, I realized that either I was hungrier than I thought or those Lunchables, especially the pizza ones, were pretty damn tasty. I covered two of the faux pizza crusts with cheese and pepperonis before glimpsing the packet of tomato sauce at the bottom. So my third was the best of the lot, with lots of sauce and cheese and pepperoni. And then a little candy bar to eat for dessert! Yum!
So, I went to the doctor's office, where I found out I have bronchitis and got drugs. More on that later. Then on to pick up the kids and pick up Dave (who sprained his ankle badly yesterday and now can't walk or drive) and drop the prescriptions off at the pharmacy and come home.
Here's where the trouble starts. Dinner is running behind what passes for a schedule in our house, so Daniel gets permission to have a snack.
Perhaps I should have placed the other Lunchable back into its former hiding place. I'm sure I just hurriedly threw it in the fridge before heading out to the doctor's office. Which is why, when I'm lying on my bed, nursing the two-year-old (and yes, she still nurses, so sue me), the four-year-old bursts into the room.
"Mommy!" he yells loudly. "Mommy! I hate to have to believe this, but I think you ate a Lunchable!"
"Um, yes..." I begin.
"I hate to have to believe it, but I think you ate the pizza Lunchable!" This with a wail rising at the end of the sentence.
"Well," I start. "Well, I was going to the doctor, and I remembered I hadn't had lunch yet, and I needed something that I could take in the car, and, well, I saw those Lunchables that you and Daddy bought at the store, and, yes. I ate one."
"Mommy," he says somewhat sorrowfully, "Mommy did you eat the pizza one?!"
"Yes," I say.
Anguished cry. Tears, yes, tears begin to pour down his cheeks.
"I can't believe you ate the pizza lunchable! You knew that was my favorite!! YOU KNEW!!!"
I'm torn between the impulse to hold him and wipe away his tears and the one to burst out laughing. For the moment, I twist my lips together and reach my hands out. It's the tears that do it. I can't laugh at his tears.
He glares at me.
What follows is a sobbing diatribe that I can't begin to set down word for word. Paraphrased, it goes something like this: What kind of a mommy would EAT a lunchable that was bought specifically for her child? Not only a lunchable, but a pizza lunchable, one that she knew was his favorite. And she ate it anyway.
I start to get a little tired of this, tears notwithstanding.
"I've never even seen you eat a pizza lunchable before," I say.
No, he eats them all the time, and I know he does.
I try again. "Didn't Daddy tell me that you were eating the other lunchable, just now?"
"Yes," he wails piteously. "But the only thing I like in that one is the cheese and the candy bar!!!" He sobs again.
"Not the crackers?" I say drily.
He sniffles. "Well, okay," he says. "Okay. Actually, I do like the Ritz Crackers too. But not as much as the pizza one! And I hate bologna!!"
This goes on before he finally stomps out of the room.
Next my husband comes in to ask about it.
"Did you..." he begins.
"Yes, I did," I say.
"The pizza one?" he asks.
Which is how I find myself in Publix after a trip to the pharmacy, staring at the cold cuts aisle.
While there are none exactly like the pizza lunchable I ate, there are at least five different varieties of pizza lunchable. Pizza breadstick. Pizza. Deep dish pizza. Pizza Cracker Stacker. 4 Food Groups Pizza. All Lunchables. All.
There really must be something wrong with a society that has 5 different kinds of pizza-flavored prepackaged processed cold cut lunch items, and in which last week's lunchable has suddenly, inexplicably, been rendered obsolete.
And I wonder what D and I are teaching our child. I worry that we're teaching him 'the squeaky wheel gets the grease'. That we're encouraging a lack of respect for parental decision-making ability and authority.
At the same time, the rule in college (from what I remember) was always that if you eat your roommate's food, you buy a replacement.
He is my child. And I did eat something, knowing it was his, trusting he wouldn't remember. Not one of the worst things I've ever done, to be sure. But perhaps not one of the best either.
Maybe I made a mistake and fixed it.
I bought two '4 Food Groups Pizza' Lunchables for Daniel. And, yes, if you must know, two plain Pizza ones for me.
And if Ellie looks at me with those big brown eyes, then I just might share.
A+
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(no subject)
Date: 2005-01-04 05:16 am (UTC)And, eep! Bronchitis! Please get over that quickly, and feel better soon!!
(no subject)
Date: 2005-01-04 12:57 pm (UTC)Mel will so do this soon. Right now I mostly get dirty looks and maybe a "Mommy, STOP it!". What did I do? I asked if she wanted any more of her chicken nuggets. She said no. So I put one in my mouth.
Aperently, it's okay if she doesn't want it, but NOT okay if I do!
Blechy bronchitis! Get better soon! I wanna go out or do lunch or do Disney with the fams or SOMETHING soon. :)
(no subject)
Date: 2005-01-04 09:21 pm (UTC)You evil, evil woman
Date: 2005-01-06 02:39 am (UTC)Whenever I eat stuff like this, I try to justify it by saying, "Better me than them." You know, how THEY need to eat organic wholesome fat free fresh food while I need to eat the leftover Halloween candy? (Beth)