how do you "lose" your dinner?
My daughter used to sit sort of nicely at the table and eat her dinner. Now she finds multiple excuses to get up and run around: I need more water, I have to poop (in those words), my hands are sticky, there's a bug on the window, I'm a kitty. We try our darnedest to get her to stay put but by the end of most meals the baby is crying, Tennyson is freaking out for reasons unknown and Jordan is running around the kitchen table.
The other day Steven was working so it was just me and the kids eating a square Hamburger Helper dinner. Jordan was running around - again - and I had to leave the table for something. I know, I'm a horrible example. When I came back I saw her red bowl in the sink. Then she came back and asked for seconds. I scolded her for putting her bowl in the sink if she wasn't done. She insisted that she hadn't put it in there. To her credit, the bowl didn't look as though it had HH in it. I checked the cupboard and the sink, and with Tennyson's bowl there were only three of the set of four accounted for. "This is ridiculous" I said to Jordan (poor kid is going to know ALL the big scold words soon), "How do you 'lose' your dinner?" She seemed a little perplexed herself. I began searching the places she had been running around in - the dining room table, under the table, under the table and on the chairs. "Jordan, seriously, where did you put your dinner?" "I don't know," she said, exasperated. Why she was annoyed at me was anyone's guess. I certainly didn't run off with her dinner.
I headed back to the kitchen and saw this:
Suddenly everything was abundantly clear. I shouldn't say "suddenly" - for a split second I groaned inwardly, imagining baby diarrhea pooled underneath Mitchell and soaked into the highchair liner, puddled in the screw holes and crusting in the buckles. Then I remembered what it was I was looking for. Jordan must have set her bowl on Mitchell's high chair and then wandered off. Mitchell then dragged the entire bowl into his lap.
It was messy, but boy was I glad it wasn't poop.
Admit it, you thought it was poop too!
The other day Steven was working so it was just me and the kids eating a square Hamburger Helper dinner. Jordan was running around - again - and I had to leave the table for something. I know, I'm a horrible example. When I came back I saw her red bowl in the sink. Then she came back and asked for seconds. I scolded her for putting her bowl in the sink if she wasn't done. She insisted that she hadn't put it in there. To her credit, the bowl didn't look as though it had HH in it. I checked the cupboard and the sink, and with Tennyson's bowl there were only three of the set of four accounted for. "This is ridiculous" I said to Jordan (poor kid is going to know ALL the big scold words soon), "How do you 'lose' your dinner?" She seemed a little perplexed herself. I began searching the places she had been running around in - the dining room table, under the table, under the table and on the chairs. "Jordan, seriously, where did you put your dinner?" "I don't know," she said, exasperated. Why she was annoyed at me was anyone's guess. I certainly didn't run off with her dinner.
I headed back to the kitchen and saw this:
Suddenly everything was abundantly clear. I shouldn't say "suddenly" - for a split second I groaned inwardly, imagining baby diarrhea pooled underneath Mitchell and soaked into the highchair liner, puddled in the screw holes and crusting in the buckles. Then I remembered what it was I was looking for. Jordan must have set her bowl on Mitchell's high chair and then wandered off. Mitchell then dragged the entire bowl into his lap.
It was messy, but boy was I glad it wasn't poop.
Admit it, you thought it was poop too!
Comments
As if I don't feel guilty enough when I cheat and make HH.