Sunday, February 13, 2011

The Mommy fix

Sometimes, you just need a big ol' bowl of Mommy.

The other day, my son was not feeling well. He's 7, and one of the easy ways to tell that he's not feeling well is to note how frequently he gets frustrated.

On this day, it was a lot. And I mean a lot. Little things were frustrating him. A Lego couldn't be found. His pet fish was on the wrong side of the bowl. The Capri Sun straw went in just a bit off center. You know, major league day ruiners.

I was feeling pretty punky myself, so I decided the best cure for both of us would be to lounge on the bed and watch some television. That, as you can guess, frustrated Parker. He said he wanted to lie on the floor and play a game on my phone. Fine. Whatever.

This was about 5 p.m. After only a few minutes, I fell asleep. I woke up around 6:30 p.m., and by now it was dark outside. I glanced around the room, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. I couldn't see anything. But I could hear the soft, rhythmic sounds of a tiny log being sawed. The Dude was crashed out, asleep on the floor.

I don't recall him taking a nap in years, so it was clear he needed some shut-eye. That said, I knew he hadn't eaten supper, so I decided I would get him up long enough to get something in his tummy and then get him back to sleep (probably just setting him back on the floor, because, hey, he looked comfy).

In retrospect, I probably should have just left him on the floor. He has averaged three meals a day for his entire life, so I am guessing skipping one dinner was not going to result in his demise.

But the damage had been done, and I had him up and was carrying him downstairs as he started to come to. "Do you want some mac and cheese?" I asked? "Uh-huh," he replied groggily.

I made him some mac and cheese, which takes a whopping 90 seconds. During that minute and a half, The Dude had retreated to the stairs and wedged himself on a step and fallen back asleep.

"Parker," I said, "your dinner is ready."

And cue the frustration.

"No." he said.

"Yes," I said, "it is."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is. You said you wanted mac and cheese. It's ready."

"I ... don't ... want ... mac ... and ... cheese."

Now, mind you he was not being defiant just for giggles. He was half-asleep and already in a funk. I picked him up off the stairs, figuring the delicious aroma of warm mac and cheese would get him going.

He sat at the table. "I don't want mac and cheese. And will your turn on Curious George?" he asked. It all started making sense. Curious George is on PBS in the mornings before school. He was partially out of sorts because he thought it was morning and that, quite frankly, a big ol' bowl of mac and cheese for breakfast was kinda odd.

"Parker," I said, "it's not morning. It's still nighttime. You only took a nap."

"Yes, it is!" he insisted.

This was going to be a tough argument to win. OK, new strategy - carry on like it's morning, get some food in is tummy, and tell him he can sleep a few minutes before school.

"Hey, how about a bowl of oatmeal?"

He looked up at me. "How about a bowl of Mommy?"

That was not on the menu, as Mommy was at the store. He stuck to his guns, insisted a bowl of Mommy would make it all better. I assured myself he was speaking metaphorically.

When Mommy got home, it was as if she had returned from a four-year voyage. He was in bed soon (even having downed a bowl of oatmeal).

But two very important lessons were learned: (1) Sometimes it takes a bowl of Mommy to make things better, and (2) just let 'em keep sleeping on the floor.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

I stumbled across your blog and I'm go glad I did. I needed a good laugh today! Thanks to the little man for being adorable.