with emphasis on the big, fat, loser! After handing out the verses on Monday and explaining the new snack system, Tuesday came. We had many errands to run -Home Depot, Pier 1, Walmart, etc. I blew it. We didn't get home from our shopping run until 4:15. No kids in the yard, no kids on the porch, no kids anywhere. ugh. Then Dylasia (11) comes from across the street with her brother Tivon (6) and reports that "some other kids were here waiting on you but they had to go home." double ugh.
I was feeling really crummy about things until yesterday, when the kids who had been so eagerly waiting for me (and heaping guilt on my head in so doing) showed up and acted like they had never heard of or seen the verse I gave them.
kid: Can I have a cookie?
me: Tell me the verse.
kid: What verse?
me: The verse I gave you two days ago and told you to memorize if you wanted a cookie.
kid: We s'pose to learn that?
me: uh, yeah, that was kinda the point.
There were some who received grace and "hints" to earn their snack for the day and others who not only didn't know the verse but had sorry attitudes to go with it and they got nothing. A guilt-free nothing! Maybe today will be better.
In other loser news, it's been brought to my attention over the past two weeks what a weirdo mom I am. Exhibit A:
While grocery shopping the week of Tim's absence, I noticed that the Chef Boyardee was on sale and thought that it would be an easy and nice change from our usual PB & J so I started grabbing cans. Nathan, Mamoune, and Isaiah begin jumping up and down and almost in unison say, "Mom, that's the stuff we've seen on TV!" I look at them in disbelief. Haven't I bought these before? It turns out -no, I haven't. I knew that I was careful not to load up on processed foods but what the heck? I lived off of Ravioli growing up. Even after Tim and I were married, I would eat them for lunch daily (throw some shredded cheese and a few jalapeno slices...mmm). Yet here I have deprived my children of this joy. No wonder they disobey -they aren't getting enough enriched macaroni product in their diet. Not to mention the disodium phosphate. I mean there's less than 2% in each serving and they aren't even getting that! Not anymore. Move over green beans, we are clearing a space for the Chef!
I wish that were the end of my confession but it gets worse. Oh yeah, brace yourselves!
On Tuesday's grocery run, I picked up 10 packets of that great American staple. The stuff kids in this country are grown on -Kool Aid. This time my food sheltered crew said, "What's that, Mom?" I couldn't even bring myself to answer them. How could I explain that I've robbed them all these years? How could I ever make up for their ignorance of red 40, yellow 5, and blue lake 7? A moment while I hang my head in shame. . . . .
As I was mixing this mystical potion of childhood years gone by, Mamoune screams to the boys "Come look! Mom's making water that looks like purple stuff." Purple stuff? sigh. There you have it. My soul laid bare before you. I am a disgrace to my breed.
I can't even look you all in the face. I type with my head turned.