After spending the morning at the school and the afternoon at ukulele practice we headed back to the school for the annual Spring Fling, which was made 100% more awesome by the addition of some inflatables. Some friends of ours sponsored the event this year and provided an inflatable slide and a bouncy house and I'm pretty sure the kids (and many adults) thought it was the best thing ever.
We hardly saw the girls; they were off running around with their friends.
Benjamin spent pretty much the whole time climbing up and sliding down...until he got a little rug burn on his elbow. Like the little rash he got at the beach during spring break, this little wound soured his whole outlook on the day.
He complained the whole way home.
"This ended up just like the beach!" he said. "It was fun, I guess, but then I got my rash and then it wasn't fun any, any, anymore! It spread through my whole body, Mom! It even got on my cheeks! And you didn't do anything about it! Why didn't you put wiper-dash cream...wiper-waash...wiper..."
By this time we were all dying of laughter.
He'd been trying to say "diaper rash cream."
Wiper-dash might just be the next new thing at our house. I mean, we still say "hanitizer" for hand sanitizer, which is a Rachel-ism from, like, 8 years ago, so wiper-dash cream could very well live on in infamy.
"First of all, Benny," I said when I had somewhat regained my composure. "Your rash didn't spread all over your whole body. You didn't have a rash on your face. And, second, you don't put diaper rash cream on your face..."
"Why not?!" he demanded to know. "If you have a rash..."
Because wiper-dash cream is for bottoms only, obviously.
Despite Benjamin's (and Rachel's and Miriam's, if we're being honest) rug burns (the slide was pretty long and slick), we managed to have fun at the Spring Fling. I boiled some eggs, cooked some noodles, and made a jello and fruit salad before shuttling the kids off to ukulele. Andrew came home while we were gone and threw together a pasta salad, and thus a beautiful picnic was born.
Zoë, however, only really ate the jello, a few noodles, and some veggie straws she found in the diaper bag.
They were the snack that I'd packed for her for today's field day, but they were entirely the wrong snack for field day (if only I'd known!). Rachel's field day ran from 10–12, so I knew Zoë would be feeling snacky at some point. When she asked for a snack, I pulled out some applesauce, which she happily ate, but when I pulled out the veggie straws she pitched an absolute fit.
She wanted crackers (probably animal crackers), not veggie straws.
She threw herself on the ground and put up a huge stink and screamed "Caa-cuh!" for probably a good half hour before she resigned herself to the fact that she has the most incompetent mother in the world (hey, nobody's perfect), which she pouted about in her stroller until we left for home.
When we got home she again asked for crackers, so I pulled out the animal crackers but—wouldn't you know?—they were the wrong kind.
"Ooh-ooh! Ahh-ahh! Cracker!" Zoë said. "Ooh-ooh! Ahh-ahh!"
"I'm afraid I don't know what that means," I said.
"She wants chocolate animal crackers," Benjamin explained. "There's a gorilla on the box."
"Well, we don't have any of those," I said.
And she threw herself on the floor, screaming and crying about our lack of ooh-ooh, ahh-ahh animal crackers.
So I'm glad that, after turning up her nose at Andrew's pasta salad, she decided that this afternoon's veggie straws were what she wanted for dinner. Silly kid.
We hardly saw the girls; they were off running around with their friends.
Benjamin spent pretty much the whole time climbing up and sliding down...until he got a little rug burn on his elbow. Like the little rash he got at the beach during spring break, this little wound soured his whole outlook on the day.
He complained the whole way home.
"This ended up just like the beach!" he said. "It was fun, I guess, but then I got my rash and then it wasn't fun any, any, anymore! It spread through my whole body, Mom! It even got on my cheeks! And you didn't do anything about it! Why didn't you put wiper-dash cream...wiper-waash...wiper..."
By this time we were all dying of laughter.
He'd been trying to say "diaper rash cream."
Wiper-dash might just be the next new thing at our house. I mean, we still say "hanitizer" for hand sanitizer, which is a Rachel-ism from, like, 8 years ago, so wiper-dash cream could very well live on in infamy.
"First of all, Benny," I said when I had somewhat regained my composure. "Your rash didn't spread all over your whole body. You didn't have a rash on your face. And, second, you don't put diaper rash cream on your face..."
"Why not?!" he demanded to know. "If you have a rash..."
Because wiper-dash cream is for bottoms only, obviously.
Despite Benjamin's (and Rachel's and Miriam's, if we're being honest) rug burns (the slide was pretty long and slick), we managed to have fun at the Spring Fling. I boiled some eggs, cooked some noodles, and made a jello and fruit salad before shuttling the kids off to ukulele. Andrew came home while we were gone and threw together a pasta salad, and thus a beautiful picnic was born.
Zoë, however, only really ate the jello, a few noodles, and some veggie straws she found in the diaper bag.
They were the snack that I'd packed for her for today's field day, but they were entirely the wrong snack for field day (if only I'd known!). Rachel's field day ran from 10–12, so I knew Zoë would be feeling snacky at some point. When she asked for a snack, I pulled out some applesauce, which she happily ate, but when I pulled out the veggie straws she pitched an absolute fit.
She wanted crackers (probably animal crackers), not veggie straws.
She threw herself on the ground and put up a huge stink and screamed "Caa-cuh!" for probably a good half hour before she resigned herself to the fact that she has the most incompetent mother in the world (hey, nobody's perfect), which she pouted about in her stroller until we left for home.
When we got home she again asked for crackers, so I pulled out the animal crackers but—wouldn't you know?—they were the wrong kind.
"Ooh-ooh! Ahh-ahh! Cracker!" Zoë said. "Ooh-ooh! Ahh-ahh!"
"I'm afraid I don't know what that means," I said.
"She wants chocolate animal crackers," Benjamin explained. "There's a gorilla on the box."
"Well, we don't have any of those," I said.
And she threw herself on the floor, screaming and crying about our lack of ooh-ooh, ahh-ahh animal crackers.
So I'm glad that, after turning up her nose at Andrew's pasta salad, she decided that this afternoon's veggie straws were what she wanted for dinner. Silly kid.
I love when siblings can translate for their younger siblings. :) Sorry about Benjamin's rash that spread throughout his entire body and ruined the otherwise fun day! :-P
ReplyDelete