Life lessons

Last night was an evening of Holiday Music a la my kids and their fellow Suzuki school of music students. Egan had been preparing for this event practicing Jingle Bells daily, several times a day. He was highly anticipating this opportunity to play with the orchestra. At the cue of "Jingle Bells is up next!" he strutted his confident cowboy boot wearing self, viola tucked under his arm, to the front row.

Sweet Baby Jesus, he was adorable. And Allie was amazing. Unfortunately Gil wasn't able to participate with his classical guitar playing because his teacher fell ill just before the show.

So after these events, there's always a buffet of finger foods and plentiful holiday cookies. Brownies. Chocolates. Santa walking around with candy canes. Cocktail weenies. Meatballs.

You see, I am very aware of all of these foodstuffs because of my sweet Gil saving his regurgitated buffet extravaganza for me to clean up in the hallway outside of his room later in the night.

I'm awoken to Allie standing at my bedside, dutifully alerting me to her brother's incident. Poor Gil had literally tossed his cookies all over the hallway floor outside of his room. A mere 5 paces from the toilet.

The Funny Part, which can also be read as FORESHADOWING, is flashing back to our car ride home, when Gil was complaining of a slight tummy ache and not feeling well. I told him that was probably diabetes setting in. I also reminded him that this is not the first time he has gorged on sweets and cookies that leads to the inevitable chocolate infused vomit fest. Although one of those other times, because I'm pretty sure this has happened at least 3 maybe 4 times, Coca Cola was the base. And that time the chocolate came from way too many S'mores. There had to have been a chemical reaction occuring.

The other day my friend gave me a bag of circus peanuts. It was a joke of course, because I'm pretty sure no adult voluntarily injests circus peanuts. Although she did after I opened the package because she swears she's never had one. She's from California, though. That's the only reasonable explanation.

This entire discussion of sugar induced vomiting immediately puts me back to when I had to have been about 5 years old and made myself sick on circus peanuts.

The sweet syrup the pharmacist puts into amoxicillin? To sucker your kid into taking it? Smells exactly like circus peanuts. This is me shuddering in disgust over here.

My midnight activity last night was figuring out how the hell to sop up this sea of chocolate and OH LOOK! A BARELY CHEWED COCKTAIL WEENIE! Rest assured, dear readers, I completed the task with what must be a disposable bath towel because I chucked it off the back porch where it still is today. With no intention of figuring out how to clean it. To the trash it goes.

This morning Egan says to Gil sternly, "You knew this was going to happen, Gil. Why do you do that to yourself?"