Tuesday, May 6, 2014

What is that Smell?

My wife walked by the front door and remarked, "I smell something odd."
I couldn't confirm her suspicion.
She continued to hover, saying "It's like the smell of wet laundry. Yeah, only it got moldy having not dried out."
She looked around. I looked at the bottom of my shoes for suspects. Then she reached into my six year old daughter's school backpack, opening it up.
"Ohhh! This smells horrible! Did you finish your sandwich?!"
My daughter rolled her eyes up, trying to look around innocently. My wife pulled out incriminating evidence from the backpack. First a chocolate spread sandwich that was untouched and two days old. Then she revealed a tuna sandwich that had a bite, and was probably a week old.
"Do you guys even eat what I give you for lunch?" my wife asked, accusingly.
My ten year old stared to smirk, looking guilty as well. My wife pulled open the zipper on his backpack, quickly repulsed by a horrible smell. "Where do you put your sandwiches?"
"I have a few compartments on my backpack," my son answered, "there is the outer compartment for my bus money, another for my books, and final compartment for books and food."
My wife pulled out a half-eaten sandwich and dumped out some books. Then she found a sandwich bag that was filled with  a black-green substance, turning to liquid. "Look at this!" she declared.
We all collapsed in laughter, seeing how his backpack had turned into a fungal-bacteria research facility.

Saturday, March 1, 2014

The Long Run Home

D. went to a youth group event for the first time today on the other side of town. The kid that went with him said, "Don't worry, D. can come home with me. I'll take him home."

Saturday night, I hear frantic footsteps run up the stairs, and D. blasts through the front door, bursting into tears. "The kid just got in his father's car and went home. I went to to talk to the youth group counselor, and that was it. Everyone was gone!" D. said over frantically.

Seeing no other way home, D., a bookish 8 year old, took to the streets and ran as hard as he could go. He wasn't even sure if he was running in the right direction. He asked someone about the street he lived on, and saw them pointing where he was running. Along the way he saw a few familiar restaurants, and was re-assured that he was at least going in the right direction.

Despite the dismal ending, D. enjoyed his first day of youth group and wanted to go back. But next time he would wait until Daddy came to pick him up.

Tuesday, February 25, 2014

The Ball

We were running late for school and had all gotten into the car. "Wait!" said D. "can I go up and get my ball."
"No," I said, "I'm sorry but we're running late. Next time."
D. went ballistic. As we pulled out of the parking lot, he started kicking the seats and screaming "Let me just go get the ball. It will only take a minute. Please!"
I didn't relent and we drove off to school. He called up along the way and got out of the car and went into school.
Later I told my wife about his reaction. "The ball has become his new ticket for socializing at recess," she explained, "when he brings the ball to school then he is the center of attention. He gets to organize the games that they play with the ball and he feels important socially. That's why it was so dear to him to bring the ball."
I made sure that he brought his ball every day after that.

Monday, January 6, 2014

Sibling Rivalry Draws Swords

We recently had a baby. Great News!
During the first week, our daughter, our youngest, stayed home from school sick with a fever. She enjoyed being around the baby, touching him, kissing him, smiling at him and even singing to him. Yet people kept asking, "How is your daughter taking to the baby and not being the youngest anymore."

'Just great,' I said often. It was the truth, and the transition to bringing a baby into our family and now having four kids seemed to be going smoothly. My daughter got well and went back to school, who had written off her absence due to the birth of her baby brother.

Throwing Up
Then a few weeks later, she came into our baby early in the morning. I was so tired from having gotten up every two hours for feeding that I didn't even notice her, until I rolled over in the morning and saw her lying there. I fell back asleep. In my dream I was startled awake by the sound of retching.

I turned over and opened my eyes to find my daughter, coughing and ready to throw up. She turned over and vomited a bit on the blankets and sheets, and I grabbed her and took her to the bathroom to finish.

My wife and I cleaned up, and were left scratching our heads wondering about this out of the ordinary event with our daughter.

What's that Smell?
One night I went in to check on my daughter. Her room was filled with a revolting smell. I told my wife. "Oh she probably just farted."
Then a short while later, my daughter, S. got up and came into our room. She complained that she thought she dirtied her pants. My wife checked and she found that S. had pooped in her pants at night, really bad.

Release the Wrath
A week later, we let S. stay home from school, after she claimed to have a sore throat. After the boys get off school and she is the only one at one besides the baby, she wanted to play and watch shows on the computer. This was unacceptable. Either she was sick and needed to be bedridden or she should be in school.
She tore into a tantrum, getting angry and yelling "All you do is take care of the baby. You don't care about me. I just want to kill that baby!"
We kept her home from school and made sure to give her lots of attention.
Later in the day she turned to us and said, "I'm sorry. I just wanted to be with you." She gave the baby a kiss.