Scene: Apartment life. Evening.
Mom, I want a dish.
A dish for what?
A dish for honey cake. (apparently something on Team Umizoomi was eating honey cake).
We don’t have any honey cake.
Well where is it?
I don’t know.
It must be around here somewhere. ::scratches head:: Maybe in the fridge?
Then he catches a glimpse of this ad on my computer screen:
We go to Mickey Donald’s! Get a lunch box. Let’s go.
Curse you McDonald’s.
Suddenly “honey cake” doesn’t sound so bad. I overlook the uneaten dinner of homemade bean and cheese enchiladas with Spanish rice still sitting on the table. I remember that we have some leftover whole wheat biscuits in the fridge and I scoop up my son:
Let’s eat biscuits!
AND THEN WE’LL TAKE A BATH! AND GO TO BEEEEED!
All of this said at such a volume and with such enthusiasm that you would think the next line would be GO TEAM! As he eats his biscuits at the table, next to that uneaten dinner, I go put on my nightgown because frankly, it’s been a long day and I’m tired.
He meets me in the hallway and takes my hand,
Mommy, you look like a princess.
Aww, baby. I love you. And I hope you never, ever have to go gluten free.