I’m hungry. The kids just ate but I neglected to make something for myself. As usual.
I look in the fridge and grab a cucumber. Sliced cucumber with vinegar and salt. Yum. This has always been one of my favorite summer snacks.
As I’m cutting the cucumber the kids come over and ask what I’m making:
Actually, only Crappy Boy asks what I’m making. Crappy Baby reaches up and tries to get his fingers cut off with the knife.
I tell them what I’m making:
They immediately start complaining.
I start to walk away but the complaining follows me.
They don’t want it! They don’t like it!
I have a smug look on my face because I don’t care.
It don’t care because:
You see what I did there? I pulled the rug out from under their complaints.
Their whining has no meaning!
Score one for the mama!
Make that score two for the mama!
In case you aren’t using the same scoring system, I scored two because I got them to stop whining (1 point) and also because they ate a green food (1 point).
And for those of you who knew me when I was pregnant and remember that all I ever craved was cucumbers with salt and vinegar on them… No, I’m not. I’ve eaten cucumbers with vinegar and salt my whole life. I used to eat them for hangovers in college. I used to eat them when I (briefly) had purple hair in high school. I used to eat them while I watched Mr Rogers’ Neighborhood when I was five. My mom pureed them and put them in my bottle when I was two days old. I’ve been eating cucumbers with vinegar and salt forevah! This is the snack of champions! So it doesn’t mean anything that I’m eating them now.*
*Actually, that isn’t true. It does mean something. It means I like eating cucumbers with salt and vinegar.