Monday, May 15, 2006

Girls gone home - we're just sitting around, eating rice with chopsticks and telling tall tales

sickday 'stopsticks '

Annabel spent all day yesterday sleeping off a fever. Seeing as how Yaya's little bug spent a week trying to get over this same nasty virus and Yaya is sick, too, when Annabel woke up this morning and felt a little warm I kept her home. An hour or so after I gave her some Children's Motrin her temperature went back down. I can't praise Children's Motrin enough, even though getting the correct dosage into her is kind of like trying to feed tofu to a Bears fan. It ain't pretty.

What's worse than her spiking temperature, however, is the color of the Jell-O coming from her nose when she sneezes. (I'll just leave the discription at that.)

Since we were both twiddling our thumbs at 11 a.m. wondering what to do with our sorry selves before nap time, I got the bright idea to teach her how to use chopsticks. (She calls them STOPSTICKS). Yesterday I cooked some sushi rice, so I made little balls, sprinkled them with sesame seeds and set her loose on them. Aside from getting the sticky rice all over the couch, in her hair and launched through the air to land squarely in the center of Mad-o-wyn's hackles -- at the precise spot where the dog couldn't reach it without the circular motions usually seen only in puppies chasing their tails, and even then I had to perform an assist -- I thought it was a pretty successful "first" lunch. After all, she did get a few bites into her mouth and no one lost an eye.

My guess is that for "second" lunch she'll be wanting finger foods. She's had enough with the stopsticks for one day. I could tell the look in her eye what was going on in her head: "These is about as useful as tits on a bull, mom." Of course, it might have been the clatter of wood sticks against the wall as they sailed across the room that did the talking.

1 comment:

Andrea said...

Ah rice and a little one. We had Chinese takeout for dinner last night, and usually my little one won't touch the rice. Last night, he acted like I broke his favorite toy when I passed the box right by his bowl. Even with a fork he couldn't manage it, so he ended up using his hands. Thirty minutes later, I had a mound of rice on our carpet and in the creases of his pants and one very happy boy. Who would've though he'd like rice that much? Thank God for the vacuum though.