I am happy to announce that Fresh Market & Co. waddled back to our ‘hood this afternoon. All nine of them.
We took them some bread and then snapped an obscene number of pictures.
The mama and daddy were much friendlier today, by the way.
I’m guessing that had something to do with the whole bread thing.
Which reminds me.
Today about 12:30 someone called me from Alex’s Mother’s Day Out and said that he had gotten sick. She said that he didn’t throw up exactly, but he got very still in the middle of eating lunch “and then some of it came back up.”
So I jumped in the car and headed over to pick him up, and when I got there about five minutes later, he was sitting happily in a chair in the director’s office, eating a popsicle and talking up a storm. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was sticking to his head – they’d been out on the playground right before lunch – but other than that he looked perfectly normal. I figured he must be in the early stages of a virus, so we thanked everybody for their help (“AND THE POPSICLE, MAMA!”), grabbed his backpack, and left.
Once we got back home, I immediately fixed the little man some Sprite and told him that it would probably be a good idea if he rested for awhile. He curled up on his bean bag in the playroom and watched a movie, and I was all “bless your bones” and “baby, do you need anything?” and he was all doe-eyed and uncharacteristically quiet.
But when the movie was over, he popped up from that bean bag, threw on his shoes, ran down the hallway at warp speed and announced (loudly) that he wanted to GO OUTSIDE! PLEASE, MAMA! AND PLAY BASEBALL!
Which seemed, you know, odd. Considering he was sick and all.
And by the end of the day, when there had been no more vomitage but a great deal of TALKING! AND PLAYING!, I started to get a little puzzled about this “virus.” So I began to ask him some questions.
Finally, after he had detailed most of the circumstances surrounding his lunchtime misfortune, he said, “Mama, I don’t need a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my lunch anymore.”
“But you love peanut butter and jelly, don’t you?”
“No, Mama. I don’t need it.”
And then it dawned on me: I bought a different kind of bread this week, a brand with little chunks of grains and berries and nuts and whatnot.
So I said, “Buddy, did you not like the bread I used today to make your sandwich?”
“NO, Mama – it had NUTS in it. And Mama, I SPIT IT OUT. I SPIT IT OUT REAL HARD.”
Which pretty much solved the whole “mystery virus” conundrum.
You see, apparently my child didn’t care for Nature’s Own Honey Wheat Berry bread when he started to eat his lunch today, so HE GAGGED AND PROJECTILE SPAT IT ACROSS THE LUNCH TABLE, thereby causing his teacher’s understandable concern that he was, you know, VOMITING.
And then he was rewarded for his pickiness with a popsicle.
Really, it worked out beautifully for the young lad.
But no worries.
Because as you can see, Go Diego Go here thought that the Nature’s Own Honey Wheat Berry bread was absolutely delicious. As did his siblings and parents.
In fact, not a single one of them gagged, spat or threw up even a little bit as they ate it.
Alex may have them beat in terms of social skills, but they win the table manners battle by a mile.
There’s a little pond at the back of our house, and we’ve gotten to know the geese pretty well over the last few months. Alex has named them all, and apparently the one he calls Dora and the one he calls Nemo had them some babies. Some sweet, fluffy babies.
I LOVE THEM.
It’s quite the geese-tacular around here, my friends.
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