Saturday, April 27th, 2013
Fia, Emmett, and I were all in the kitchen this morning. I was trying to juice a bunch of oranges Phil (finally) picked from our tree. I had been bugging him for a week. When he was done, he announced he was going back to bed. Oh, okay.
So I am trying to keep the kids distracted and alive. Em was playing with a box. No big deal, right? Until…I look over and Fia is trying to close him up in it.
“Fia! You can’t do that!” I screamed. Then….”actually, hold that pose while I take a picture.”
“Okay. Fia!!!! You can’t do that!”
Ten minutes later I’m washing away the mess of a cheap juicer breaking while grinding 50 oranges to produce a half quart. A lot of work for little payoff. There is a cabinet below and to the right of my sink that we don’t use (it’s gross/in disrepair) but Emmett often likes to open and close it. I hear Emmett whimpering but I can’t see him anywhere.
“Fia, where is Emmett?”
I hear the sound again. I look down and this is what my crazy boy has gotten himself into:
“Oh, poor baby!” I say. “Come here…no, wait.”
I grab my phone.
“Hugs sweetheart. It’s okay. Mommy’s got you.”
Then we all drink orange juice. Phil remains in bed.
One hour later I look over and well, you know the drill…Benign neglect at its best.
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