My Milkshake Brings All The Yoys To The Yard
Big E is feeling a little under the weather today.
As a special treat, we ran through the CFA drive-thru for a strawberry milkshake.
Big E worked on his milkshake as we navigated the aisles at Target. He MAYBE sucked down a third of the shake by the time we arrived home.
As a side note, I would like to say that if I had bought myself a shake, it would have been dead, murdered, slaughtered in about five minutes flat. That's how I roll. But not Big E. He savors.
Anyway, by this time the shake had morphed into strawberry milk so I put it in the freezer.
At lunchtime, Big E requested his shake again, so I obliged.
After lunch I was putting away the items we purchased at Target. Big E was "assisting". I ran upstairs to put some diapers away.
Nipping at my heels with his shake in hand was Big E. His bottom lip was quivering.
WHAT'S WRONG?
Half sobbing/half whining he finally told me he spilled his milkshake. I peered over the railing to where I last saw Big E with the shake, and sure enough, there was a puddle of melted strawberry goodness on the floor. At least it was on the wood floor and not on the carpet.
I assured Big E it was fine and I ran downstairs to wipe it up.
I made my way back upstairs.
Big E was standing in the middle of the bonus room with scissors dripping with strawberry shake and ANOTHER GIANT PUDDLE OF STRAWBERRY GOODNESS. This time it was on the ottoman.
OY, YOY YOY!
One time, maybe it's a mistake. Twice, you get an automatic ejection. I grabbed the scissors from Big E, grabbed what was left of the milkshake, and headed for the trash.
See ya strawberry milkshake.
I WANT MY MILKSHAKE! I WANT MY MILKSHAKE! I WANT MY MILKSHAKE!
Tears. Real, wet, serious tears were streaming down his cheeks.
I tried to reason with Big E.
IF YOU AREN'T RESPONSIBLE WITH YOUR DRINK, YOU CAN'T HAVE IT.
Why am I trying to reason with him? I know how this ends.
I pulled out the big guns.
IF YOU DON'T STOP CRYING YOU ARE GOING TO TIME OUT.
He simmered down.
I WANT TO WATCH TV! I WANT TO WATCH TV!
Well, considering I fed him a milkshake for lunch, television would naturally be the next horrible parenting move I would make today. And I did.
Sometimes, I just need some silence.
Don't judge me.
As a special treat, we ran through the CFA drive-thru for a strawberry milkshake.
Big E worked on his milkshake as we navigated the aisles at Target. He MAYBE sucked down a third of the shake by the time we arrived home.
As a side note, I would like to say that if I had bought myself a shake, it would have been dead, murdered, slaughtered in about five minutes flat. That's how I roll. But not Big E. He savors.
Anyway, by this time the shake had morphed into strawberry milk so I put it in the freezer.
At lunchtime, Big E requested his shake again, so I obliged.
After lunch I was putting away the items we purchased at Target. Big E was "assisting". I ran upstairs to put some diapers away.
Nipping at my heels with his shake in hand was Big E. His bottom lip was quivering.
WHAT'S WRONG?
Half sobbing/half whining he finally told me he spilled his milkshake. I peered over the railing to where I last saw Big E with the shake, and sure enough, there was a puddle of melted strawberry goodness on the floor. At least it was on the wood floor and not on the carpet.
I assured Big E it was fine and I ran downstairs to wipe it up.
I made my way back upstairs.
Big E was standing in the middle of the bonus room with scissors dripping with strawberry shake and ANOTHER GIANT PUDDLE OF STRAWBERRY GOODNESS. This time it was on the ottoman.
OY, YOY YOY!
One time, maybe it's a mistake. Twice, you get an automatic ejection. I grabbed the scissors from Big E, grabbed what was left of the milkshake, and headed for the trash.
See ya strawberry milkshake.
I WANT MY MILKSHAKE! I WANT MY MILKSHAKE! I WANT MY MILKSHAKE!
Tears. Real, wet, serious tears were streaming down his cheeks.
I tried to reason with Big E.
IF YOU AREN'T RESPONSIBLE WITH YOUR DRINK, YOU CAN'T HAVE IT.
Why am I trying to reason with him? I know how this ends.
I pulled out the big guns.
IF YOU DON'T STOP CRYING YOU ARE GOING TO TIME OUT.
He simmered down.
I WANT TO WATCH TV! I WANT TO WATCH TV!
Well, considering I fed him a milkshake for lunch, television would naturally be the next horrible parenting move I would make today. And I did.
Sometimes, I just need some silence.
Don't judge me.
Well, hello there!
Comments
Post a Comment