I Think I Made a Mistake

Last week, I went shopping for groceries at a new store and spied what I thought was a bargain, a 36 value pack of yoo-hoo drinks for 10 bucks.  My kids love these things.  I grabbed one thinking, if I put one in each of their lunch boxes each day, that's 7x5 --35, it leaves one left over and it makes packing the snacky part of their lunch (what do I have that's good?) question so easy.

Alas, I did not anticipate my 4 year old's lust for chocolate even in a diluted form to rival my own.

Within two hours of unpacking, he'd learned where they were stored and snagged one.  I did not raise an alarm, 35 were still ready to go. No biggie.

  Within one day, he'd become the bartender bringing drinks to all his siblings. They praised his ingenuity, his self reliance, and his thoughtfulness in bringing them drinks as well.  As the courier of these confections, he scored himself a second round.  We are at 25 and it is Sunday.

Monday rolls around, I load up the lunches.  Seeing the stash go down by six causes a momentary panic in my son, so he helps himself to one for breakfast while I'm making the sandwiches.  I have to resupply the lunch he just raided.  We are at 18.

After returning to the refrigerator the multiple yoo-hoo's he's brought to me in the course of the day as a means of advertising, I want to drink this all day until I explode, I weaken and we both indulge in a 5 o'clock pick me up drink.  A grave error in judgement on my part, as it sets off a cascade of kiddos running to get their own hit.  I call a truce, surrender my own to the kindergartner dearly afraid she'll get squeezed out of her treat in the rush, and control the damage.  We are down to 12.

Tuesday I deliberately blocked access to the garage via a load of towels awaiting a free spot in the dryer.  (Good luck with that).    He dumped them to get to his true love and brought back extra for his sister.  10.
I put up two stacks of wet laundry.  He climbed over them.  A gate, two loads of wet towels and I put the drinks on top of the refrigerator.  I caught him bringing the step ladder toward the laundry room exit to the garage.  I have come to know that yoo-hoo is the snack equivalent of toddler crack and woe to the adult who thinks she can stand between him and his fix.  Rather than risk his neck, I gave him and his sister a drink for lunch. 8.  

Then I do a recount and discover, his brothers have also performed a raid from the back.  We really only have 4.

Bottom line? I will need to come up with another snack by tomorrow if not sooner.  My grandmother's wisdom come drifting unbidden to the front of my brain. She raised 9 so I take her  advise seriously, "I have yet to buy my first bargain." She meant it about not being cheap with the things that are important...but I'm beginning to think...me too.   Me too.  I surrender, handing the two toddlers their yoo-hoos.  They dance around me in joy. We will be going back to the store today.

But before I go to make that extra trip, if I'm going to have to, I'm getting the last yoo-hoo all to myself.

Common Applications

Don't know why I didn't publish this one at the time....

When my oldest was applying to college, he filled out what is called the "Common Ap."  The essay question piqued my interest.   "What what literary character do you identify?"  Being an idealist who had spent much of the past four years in futile intellectual battles with adversaries only found in high school, he suggested Don Quixote.  The counsellor understood but mentioned that perhaps since Cervantes made his main character insane, this might not be the best pick to impress a potential college administrator.  

After much discussion, he settled on Sir Gawain.

But I then threw out the question to other family members....and I got Hermione, Artemis Fowl,  A "This is a trick to get us to read more" look, and Junie B Jones.  Then one of the older ones said, "Pikachu." 

Now the idea that one of my offspring identifies with a neon yellow electric mouse was a bit more than I could stomach.  I started to protest.   But this one is smart and she was prepared for my objections, "But Mom, wouldn't it make sense that you are training us and teaching us to evolve, to improve, to fight our own battles and to train?"   The minions who were in the car during this conversation immediately began speaking in the chirpy repetitive method of their self identified favorite pocket monster.  I had a bulbasar and a charizard, a flameon and a growlithe in addition to the pikachu. 

"No jigglypuff?" I asked.

"Nope." was the consensus and then they decided the younger three were a ponyta, butterfree and pichu. 

"Fine, I want one of those pokeballs too so I can put each of you out of stasis when necessary.  It would make bedtime much easier."

"But you can only keep six in pokeballs at a time." 

"It would still be easier and quieter than nine. And I want one of those cleaning pokemon, Mr. Mimes." 

"But Mom, you gotta catch them all."  She chirped, looking at my then pregnant belly, "Maybe this time."