Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Waffles....why do you hate me so?

While I know there are many children out there that require medications for reasons that I do believe are necessary, my children, thankfully are not one of them.

But this does not mean we wouldn't all benefit by popping a Valium or two.

Oh, alright....just one.

On occasion.

Okay, juuuust on the really bad days.

I'm kidding.

But seriously.

This is why I believe it may be necessary.

For when we have moment upon moments like this....


The other day my husband brought my 3 (almost 4) year old son in from the cold.

"He might be hungry...and he might want an Eggo."


...and off he went...just like that!  Back outside. 

I breathe.

Check out the time.  It's 5 pm.

And this is where my Type B personality comes in handy.

Instead of saying Oh Hell's to the NO...dinner is in a half hour!!!!  I pop, not one but TWO waffles in the toaster.

'Cause my little guy might be feeling a little peckish too.

And who cares that I'm cooking dinner and it'll be ready in .5 hours?

Who needs proper protein and vegetables?

The waffles are whole wheat!

So there I went all toastin' up the waffles, slathering with butter and syrup - just like I always do almost every morning - and....

Voila!  I slide the plates on the table in front of my boys eagerly awaiting little bodies.

Finley dove in with gusto as per usual.  Child's got an appetite.


Adrian looked like I just slid a heaping, steaming, stinky pile of dog crap in front of him.

The nose went all scrunchy....lip went all quivery.

The tears...OH THE TEARS.

I became entirely baffled as to what was going on with him.

And then I remembered.

Oh yeah.  He's three.

Which means I'm basically dealing with a small human being with dramatic and manic tendencies.

"I wanted it wh-wholllle!  With no butter and no syyyyrrrruuuuuup!

*Sob, sob.  Hiccup, hiccup!*

Since when?!

I try reasoning with him...which...by the way...reasoning?...with a 3 year old....that's an oxymoronic statement if there ever was one.

But okay...because I'm an enabler in my child's dramatic and manic tendencies I throw another one in the toaster.

If only just to get him to stop whining!  Dear God!  Anything to stop the whinging and crying! My ears were practically bleeding!

I bring it over to him whole and plain.  On his Spiderman plate.

I am confident.

Smug even.

No more tears now!

He looks closely...examines really.

He may have even sniffed it.

I watch him just as closely...holding my breath.


And then....

It starts again...

"This line!!!  I don't like this line!!!"

Are you motherloving kidding me right now!???

Apparently this specific 'line' on this particular waffle was too 'fiery' for his taste.  A term he uses when things get a little 'too toasted'.

It was brown.  Not black.  A perfectly delicious dark golden brown.

And somehow, somewhere, something niggled inside me when I saw that dark golden brown spot as it popped out of the toaster.

I knew he wouldn't like it.

But a small part of me hoped he wouldn't notice it.

So I gave it to him anyway.

And just look where it got me.

When!!!??? When will I ever learn??!!

1 comment:

middle child said...

Yeah, I think you are right,....your kid does need a Valium! Er,....no - wait! You meant for YOU right? My bad,