Saturday morning I went grocery shopping. I drove to my favorite store and bought smoked turkey, "circle cheese" (provolone, which is E-Beth's favorite) and the rest of the items on my list. I shop at this store for two reasons: because I think all of the employees must have taken classes on how to provide flawless customer service and because the deli boy flirts with me. (Oh, like you don't do the same thing!)
I came home and told Brian about the deli boy and he told me that's exactly why HE shops at that grocery store too, and aren't I surprised that the deli boy flirts with EVERYONE, not just me?
He's such a joy killer.
Tonight we were eating dinner (stuffed, grilled portobello mushrooms) and Elizabeth, who was clad only in her Dora underpants (because "clothes are BAAAAD"), announced that she would NOT be eating any more of the grilled DEATH we had placed on her plate. She wanted "circle cheese" from the nice boy in the grocery store who was talking to a little boy with a lollipop and why couldn't she have a lollipop because there is no way in heaven that the little boy at the grocery store could be a better child than she is and she reallyeallyeallyeallyeally deserved a lollipop. Or a cookie. Or ice cream.
Tired of arguing with the logic of TWO all day, I grabbed a piece of circle cheese from the fridge and did what any exhausted parent would do, I bribed her. "Eat two bites of mushroom and you can have the circle cheese. "
Chomp.
Chomp.
Mushrooms devoured, circle cheese scored by the childypants.
I bent over to pick up the toy that Adam had just ricocheted off my skull and turned back to make sure the circle cheese had been accepted as "not BAAAAD." I immediately shrieked, "Elizabeth, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
"But I washing my feet, Mommy."
There she was, in all her Dora The Explorer underoo glory, washing her feet clean with the piece of provolone cheese.
And there you have it, folks. What do you say to a child who is washing her feet with provolone? Do you look to your husband for answers? No, he is too busy shielding his face from the world because he's laughing so hard he's spitting portobello chunks across the room.