Today my 4 year old was injured at school. It was the first time he has gotten hurt at school, and I think he was traumatized. The teacher brought him out to the car with ice on his face, and he burst into tears while she told me what happened. He and his best little buddy had a collision that resulted in his friend headbutting him in the nose. It was a complete accident, but my son was worried that it meant they were no longer friends. It took me longer to heal his emotional wound than to treat his bruised nose.
My son inherited my complete lack of grace and balance. He combines these deficits with a total disregard for the location of his body in space. What does that all mean? He is constantly trying to kill himself. Well, I'm sure that is not his desired outcome, but to any onlooker it would look that way. He is a daredevil. I'm actually more shocked that he did not get hurt at school before this! Maybe he just saves all the calamity for me here at home.
It must have been some blow to the head he received, because the kid who will only eat hot dogs and chicken nuggets (no matter how hard I try to get him to try and eat other food short of sending him to bed hungry), actually tried something different at dinner tonight. My husband came home early, so I had to change my plans for dinner. When he came home and asked what was for dinner, I explained "I don't know. It's just some shit in a pan." He gave me a funny look, went upstairs to change, and when he came back downstairs... the boys were eating what they were served... spinach and all! My oldest told him "Daddy, sprinkle a little cheese on it, it's super good with that cheese!"
Me I cannot believe they are eating this. I thought for sure they'd turn their nose up at it. Of course they'd eat the one thing I think they won't touch.
Husband It's really good. You should probably change the name, though. "Shit in a pan" does not sound very appetizing.
Me Good point. It's "assorted food stuffs I threw together in a pan and cooked until it was hot."
Husband Much better.
I'll have to remember that happy moment at the table, everyone eating what I spent my precious time cooking up for them. I'll try to think of it later in the week when I slave over the stove, cooking up homemade chicken pot pie... which is delicious, mind you. My oldest will act like I'm feeding him poison and razor blades, after I have spent 2 hours cooking that pot pie. I'll have to remember to laugh at the vision of him eating what I referred to as "shit in a pan", as he refuses to eat the down home cookin' version of the frozen thing he normally adores. There is nothing more confusing than a kid's gastronomic preferences.