Football Saturday “drinking buddies” may look quite different than when we held season tickets to the Big House’s student section, but the fact remains: it’s great to be a Michigan Wolverine.
Related: when I take a picture of my husband that he didn’t ask for… // but truly, not so big into the SPORTS scene over here.
Have you heard of this tradition of Booing your neighbors? Well, we got boo’d a couple of nights ago (but first Dave was insistent that we got ding-dong-ditched, which is a funny conclusion to draw given that ~60% of our neighborhood population are generally nice kids under the age of 12).
The next evening found us at Target, hell-bent on paying forward the fun. We checked out after loading up on assorted candies, Halloween-themed cocoa bombs, chocolate-covered pretzels, bat-shaped gummies, and a haunted gingerbread house kit. As the cashier tallied the items, a single apple (which A had impulse-added to our cart) rolled slowly around, unattended on the conveyor belt.
Cashier: is this your apple?
Me, solemnly: yes, thank you. We make healthy choices in our family.
Related: no, really, we model all kinds of good nutritional practices in our home // “A” is for apple?
Me, at 6:45am: A, what is all over your face?
A: um… it was ice cream, Mom.
Me: Oh. …did you make a mess?
A, sincerely and without shame: I did, Mom.
^Please note: soup ladle (his “scooper”) and remains of his ice cream cone. Kid commits to the experience, and you have to respect that.
Before anyone fret over my 3-year-old’s decidedly unhealthy breakfast this morning, please note in the background of the photo that he also helped himself to half a “clem” and, of course, an apple that he’ll surely come back to later.
Related: we have been here before // parenting hack: healthy snacks
Immediately following our first strong gust of wind, and immediately preceding me forcibly launching myself into Lake Michigan:
“let go!” my dad yelled —
meaning “of the sail” and not
“of the entire boat.”
A few weeks ago, J was “Star Student” of his kindergarten class. This coveted position involves showcasing treasured possessions from home, sharing pictures of friends and family, and having the teacher read your favorite book to the class. Friday culminates with classmates gifting the Star Student a book of adorably clunky kindergarten illustrations inspired by the Star Student him/herself.
Dave and I excitedly opened J’s book with him on Friday evening.
“Oh my gosh, how sweet is this?!” I said. “Look! There you are wearing blue, your favorite color. And you love Legos! And I see ice cream, and a pineapple, and a burger… this is such a nice drawing from so-and-so.”
“Ha!” Dave and I laughed at page 2. “McDonald’s burger and fry! So-and-so has your number.”
By the time we got to page 3, an illustration of literally nothing except McDonald’s fries, we got suspicious. “J, did you tell your class we eat a lot of McDonald’s or something?”
“No, I didn’t.”
Well, you can probably guess how the majority of the rest of the pages of his Star Student book looked.
J insists he did not tell his class he likes McDonald’s, nor that we eat a lot of McDonald’s, nor that he mentioned McDonald’s at all. I proceeded to ask his classmate at the bus stop the following Monday. She confirmed there was no mention of J having an unusually high inclination for fast food known to be almost entirely nutritionally void.
I am therefore equal parts mystified as to what the muse was behind this clear trend of McDonald’s, and expecting that our final parent-teacher conference this year will include a surprise discussion around the importance of healthy habits in child nutrition.
- I told my children they could only eat one chocolate covered strawberry after dinner. I then hid in the pantry and consumed seven.
- I texted the sentence “that playground was dope” without an ounce of irony.
- I considered (no, really) writing a love letter to my new toaster. But come on, just look at her!
