let the wild rumpus begin
I promised a report of Monkey's first ever soccer game. I was going to sit down yesterday and tell all the details, but certain events transpired that made it quite difficult to do so. Let me share the tale of destruction before I tell you of Monkey's athletic exploits.
We came home from Monkey's game and had a nice little lunch of leftover gumbo. (Please pay attention to the food details, they will be important.) I then went outside to work in the yard for awhile. Monkey had a popsicle. Big Daddy and I started harvesting vegetables and pulling weeds. It was getting fairly warm outside by then and little Monkey wanted to go back inside. Now dedicated readers will realize at this point that it might be a little dangerous to leave the Monkey up to her own devices. Not to worry; I check up on her frequently in these instances. The last time I came up to the house to observe her activities she was playing with some legos and watching a cooking show.
So, Big Daddy and I finish up in the garden and start back up to the house. He discovers his daughter on the back porch with a mostly consumed stick of unsalted butter in her hand. The child had eaten almost an entire stick of butter. Who does that??? I also found several other popsicle wrappers laying around. The child had been busy - like those allied prisoners on Hogan's Heroes she had done her damage in tiny little increments avoiding my Colonel Klink-like surveillance.
Like I said, it was getting quite warm, so naturally I sent Monkey outside to play for awhile. Who wouldn't? About a half an hour later she was back inside and that's when it happened. I heard the noise coming from my office, but I refused to believe it. Big Daddy and I went to investigate. The Monkey had vomited over my desk and keyboard. It was not pretty. But I guess we knew something had to happen with all that butter and sugar and gumbo. Why there? She's not devulging that information. Let's just say that the keyboard was not going to work again in a normal fashion and it smelled really bad. Really bad.
I had to go buy a new keyboard this morning. It's wireless and has lots of fancy little buttons to make my life easier. If I must replace, I will upgrade. I just wish my desk still didn't have a faint odor to it.
Soccer Score:
I couldn't tell you really. Kids were running, falling and stepping on one another. Goals were scored, often in the wrong goal. Several tantrums were thrown. There were many high fives and a few crying jags. Monkey likes her new coach, Coach Kenny. His son is on her team and he brought snacks and juice boxes. Monkey's new best friend was on the other team and has a Disney princess soccer ball (that's enough cause for a three year old girl to make a new best friend). They stood in the middle of the chaos and held hands. They sat in the middle of the field and had a chat. They are three year old girls and don't have time for the petty displays of three year old boy bravado. Monkey had a few good blocks mainly because the ball rolled into her. I'm proud of her. Even if she was picking clover and holding hands, she stayed on the field. Ah, they grow up so fast...
Also, Monkey didn't want any butter on her pancakes this morning.
Sunday, July 24, 2005
Oh the horror...
posted by maggie at 2:36 PM
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Ohhhhhhh god. That's not good.
ReplyDeleteMy brother always wanted to eat butter when he was a little kid, too. But he never got more than a few Tbs. in him before he was apprehended. :-)