Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Headed For the Poor House

Apparently I do not learn quickly. I did not have the greatest sleep last night because Jamie had a party in his crib at 3 a.m. I finally got up at 3:19 a.m., convinced that he had pooped, but I was wrong. He really was just having a party - him and his yellow elephant and his blue dog. I was the party crasher. I was invited to stay, of course, but I promptly headed back to bed after changing a wet diaper. He continued to talk and laugh after that, but not for too long, fortunately. I guess somehow I felt that I was entitled to sleep in a bit this morning, after my middle-of-the-night party session with Jamie, but that was stupid of me. I did remain in bed, listening to Cody talking to Oreo, and in my half-conscious state I remember unwrapping a nutri-grain bar for him without getting out of bed or even sitting up. I had hoped that he would be all right for a while without me, though I was mildly concerned about the rabbit, as the dog was still in the house.

After a few episodes of Oreo escaping to the refuge under my bed I saw Cody haul him out and leave the room with Oreo hanging under one arm and a pair of tongs in the other hand. Hm. I didn't really like the look of that combination. Cody had requested assistance booting the dog outside because our door was frozen and he could not open it by himself, so I resigned myself to the fact that I would have to get out of bed. I did. I walked down the hallway and when I emerged at the other end I found ground zero. Something was wrong on the floor. The texture, the was all wrong. Then it hit me. That is not my carpet, that is a sea of Cheerios. I let my gaze sweep the living room and the kitchen. Cheerios, as far as the eye could see. Off to the left, a forlorn yellow box, empty. Beside it, a plastic bag, empty. I gasped and covered my head with my hands. Surely this can't be the way we are going to save money on groceries?! That was a brand new box. A big one too, not one of those little skinny ones that only last a week. I have to admit, more than a few tears escaped my eyes. Don't get me wrong, the humor did not entirely escape me, but what I was seeing in front of me looked more like an image of a pile of money on fire, burning eternally like the bush that Moses saw.

Cody asked me why I was sad. Have you ever used the word "expensive" when explaining something to an almost three year old? It is not effective. I said, "Now we can't eat any of this!" He was taken aback and looked at me like I was the most dense mother out there. He said, "Yes, I can eat it!" I then knew what I needed to do. I got Jamie up. He is now happily sitting in a blanket of Cheerios, eating his way out. Every now and again, Cody eats a few of them, but I strongly suspect that Jamie is going to be a one-man cleaning crew for the rest of the morning. I am considering not feeding him breakfast. I wonder if I pour a couple of liters of milk into the mix if that would be considered a balanced breakfast. Hm. Food for thought.

Well, that's all for now. This is coming to you from before 9 a.m. I hope the rest of our groceries survive better. I am still considering that we may need a steel safe instead of a pantry.

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