August 19, 2011

The day of the pie and Tic Tac incidents, and why I can't focus on zombies...

I should probably start this post with a disclaimer: I love sweets. Cookies, cake, candy. I can't get enough of it. Honestly, it's a wonder I don't weigh a thousand pounds, I love it all so much.

Zoe...definitely agrees with me on this. If it's sweet, she loves it and will eat as much of it as she can. But I don't want her loving it to the extent that I do, or did, at least through high school when a Snickers bar seemed like a perfectly appropriate breakfast.

So I don't let her have sweets all that often. But this post directly contradicts that statement, because it's all about bad things that happen around sugary snacks. Because clearly, I can blame bad behavior on sugar, right? Or at least the addiction thereto? Hmm...I might have a hypothesis...but I digress...

Today was Friday, which means I don't work and typically keep Zoe home with me. We love our Fridays together. There are adventures. There are lunches out! There are shopping expeditions!!

Today was not one of those days, though. If you've ever had a three year old you know there are good days and bad days. Today was an "I don't want to listen to you, Mommy, so I'm gonna do my own thing" day. It's ok, it happens, but still. It was rough.

And it lead directly to...first and foremost....the Great Pie Incident.

We had a party to attend tonight, so I decided last night to make a pudding/fruit pie, and I wanted Zoe to help me. Working on the pie was probably the high point of our day together. We chopped up graham crackers and melted butter for a pie crust. We made pudding. We put blueberries in the pudding. We made fresh whipped cream. We assembled the whole damn thing, and it took well over an hour. It was a work of art.

So we all headed out to the car to go to the party, and I'll admit, I was in a foul mood due to the stress of the day. My arms were full of pie and purse and Pillow Pet, but I somehow managed to yank open Zoe's door and I told her to get in. I couldn't open my door because the lock is broken, and since I was irritated I snapped at Charles, who stood behind the car, to come help me. (I know! I'm sorry, honey!) He opened the front passenger door and I set the pie carefully on the seat.

Still irritated, I decided to go put my dog in his pen to have a thirty-second breather. As I turned away from the car, I briefly registered that Zoe was not in her car seat, but was instead climbing on the front, center console.

Ugh. I thought. Charles can deal with it. I kept walking away.

I locked up the dog, and by the time I was halfway across the yard, I could hear Zoe crying. Wailing. Inconsolable. And I thought to myself. Pie. Zoe. Front seat, center console. Oh, shit.

Yep, sure enough, Zoe had fallen into the pie. Whipped cream everywhere. If I were a screenwriter, I would put this scene in a sitcom and it would get big laughs. Because there was Zoe, devastated, with whipped cream on her arms and legs, and there was Charles looking baffled, and there was me, crushed like the pie.

Because damn. I'd really wanted to eat it.

Zoe cried halfway to Publix, where we stopped and bought brownies and cream puffs, and I? Well, I didn't eat dessert tonight. I'd really wanted that pie.

So anyway, that was the Great Pie Incident. On to the Tic Tacs!

The party was a great time. Zoe got to play with a pair of her schoolmates and they ran around like crazy-people. They were all exhausted by the time we left.

We got home an hour after Zoe's bedtime, and I again headed out to the dogs. By the time I was halfway across the yard, I could hear Zoe crying, but this time I had no clue as to why. I opened the door carefully, cautiously, and immediately Charles was there in front of me. "Here," he said. "This is why she's crying." He held out his hand and opened it up, and it was full of damp, slightly faded Tic Tacs.

Tic Tacs?

Oh. You mean the Tic Tacs I bought for Zoe today and have been doling out in singletons and doubletons throughout the day? Oh, right, those. She loves them. She thinks they're spicy, and that she's like a grown-up when she eats them.

Apparently she likes them enough to sneak past Charles when he's distracted on the phone, to take them off the counter and pour them into her open mouth. When Charles caught her, moments later, her mouth was full of them. He made her spit them out (what else can you do, really?), but again, Zoe was devastated. She cried the whole way to bed. I'm not sure yet if she was more upset about getting caught, or not getting to eat the Tic Tacs, but at least by the time she fell asleep she was calm. Ish.

Yeah. The Tic Tac Incident.

Basically, one day, one three year old, two crazy moments in our lives, and I can't focus on zombies tonight. Darnit.

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