tacticslion
01-08-2015, 09:25 AM
I'm sleep-deprived and exhibiting advanced levels of avoidance behavior (either taking a nap or doing dishes), so I'm going to make TWO participation threads that I shall likely abandon!*
* No, seriously, though, I'm super sleep-deprived right now. I may well forget this exists later. Sorry.
Alright! Overly-Long Pointless Anecdotes that go Nowhere you say?! I can do that!
(THIS IS SUCH A GREAT IDEA YOU GUYS)
So the other day, it was time for me to pick my son up from school, and he was hungry, as I knew he would be.
Earlier, before leaving to pick him up from school, I'd poured a can of Chicken Enchilada soup into a bowl and put it into the microwave so we'd have warm soup when we got home.
When I talked with him, he wanted lunch, so I mentioned the soup, though hilariously, due to exhaustion and natural dyslexia, I called it "Chicken Tortilla soup" (yeah, I get those names confused all the time, but only in the soups don'tjudgeme!). He became quite obsessed with this term, even as he was adamant that we go to "CHICKA-FLE" as he calls it. After some negotiation, I agree, and we head to Chik-fil-A.
On the way there, we had a... difficult... discussion, in which I had to inform him... inform him... that... that he couldn't... that he couldn't go inside. It was simply awful. See, his baby brother was so premature, and had anemia, and such a low immune system, that we simply can't go inside public places with him (whether Publix or Chik-fil-A) because him getting sick would be... bad. Though I didn't explain the why's to my son, I did reasonably and calmly discuss the terrible situation of being entirely unable to go into the Chik-fil-A to play on their playground (they do have the best play-ground; hence the tragedy of it all), but instead only through the drive-through. I made sure that he understood we could grab something else instead, or just go home and have our Chicken Tortilla soup*.
* PFFFFFT HAH! It never gets old, I'm telling ya!
But he was an exceptionally brave little buddy, and eventually came to accept the tragic truth that "we just can't do that right now", and still wanted to eat chicken from Chik-fil-A. So we continued onward.
Thus, we found ourselves in the drive-through line at Chik-fil-A, and it was suuuuuuuuuuuuuppeeeeeeerrrrrrr crowded (as it always seems to be whenever I drive past it), and I was talking to my three-year-old, who was being very loud* (especially for him) while this was happening, asking me about soup, and what he was going to get, and all sorts of three-year-old questions meant to while the time away when we were stuck in the Drive-Through.
* But for reals? My son is the best. Like, I know you others with kids also tend toward thinking your kids are the best, and they probably are, but my son is the best. He is SO DAGGUM SWEET, loves his brother, mommy, me, and family SO MUCH, the kid is quiet, nice and kind (well, usually), and just THE BEST. And so is his baby brother. :D
So I was making my order - three sandwhiches* and a kids meal - when Ben starts asking me - a lot - about the "Chicken Tortilla Soup" at home. "Yes," I reply, "Chicken Tortilla Soup at home! A biiiiig bowl!" He doesn't want it, and I've already ordered, so we're staying with what I did order.
* One for me now-ish, one for mommy when she got home eventually, and one for the two of us to split late at night when we were taking our "up all night" shifts.
Opting for an exceptionally rare treat* I ordered an ice cream in a cup! (A small one, of course.) Hearing the words "ice cream" had a profound effect on the child. Immediately he began begging for an "ice cream cone" and that "I need it right now" which, you know, is seriously unlike him**. Eventually, I broke down and ordered just an empty cone for my son, which the order-taker informed me they could switch out an ice cream cone for a toy for saving me money. I liked the idea and went with that "instead". Since I wasn't getting ice cream, I decided to grab mommy a milk shake as well. Ben, super-excited, informed me that he loved his ice cream, like I loved my salad***. He worms the full details of my salad preference in the car while we're waiting on the order-taker to total things (and make sure they had everything - there was a danger that they'd run out of some of our order, though they didn't), and finally the order-taker informs me that I can pull forward.
* Going out-to-eat is a rare treat anyway, but this was a man-date with the three boys, so I figured we'd "go all out" on this one! Woo!
** My guess? The Grandparents have had an influence. A dark, dark influence. GRAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNND-PAAAAARREEEEEEEENNNNTTTSSSSS!!!!!!11111!!!!111oneo neone111!!!!11111!!!!! *shakes fist* (By which, of course, I mean, "I really, really do deeply appreciate you taking our son from time to time, even if your policies of food acquisition and service differ from my own. Super appreciative!")
*** You know, I really don't know how he knows this. It's... not something we've ever discussed until that moment in the car. Clever kid, picking it up from some other adult.
I hand the young lady (different from the fellow who took my order) my card, while explaining to my older son that hitting my younger son in the face with Thomas is a bad idea (he wasn't hitting him yet, but he was trying to get him to look at it) and that he needed to put his toy away for now, and she politely allowed me to parent. I received my receipt and card back promptly, and received: a cup of ice cream (oh, huh, okay, I guess we didn't switch out after all), a cup of kid's lemonade, a large cup of coke with no ice (Hah! That guy recognized me almost a year later, and gave me that for free! So nice of him!), and three sandwhiches... and a large tortilla soup, and a salad with berry balsamic vinaigrette, and a fruit cup (casually mentioned with my son about what mommy likes).
Stunned, I checked my bill - for $33-dollars, more or less - and going over what was said, confirmed that, yeah, they'd probably taken those things as me ordering. WELP.
Another lady then shows me an upside-down kids cone with ice cream in it, all placed neatly in a cup so it couldn't get everywhere, and asks if that's what I'd wanted. She was quite pleased with herself, and I was shocked that it existed! In a state of fugue (combined sleep-deprivation with "oh, snap, I got a lot more food than I thought!") I informed her that it wasn't - I'd just meant an empty cone - but that I thought it was really great, although by the time I'd gotten the last part out, in order to facilitate a swift moving line (which was, I mention again, reeeeeeaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllyyyyyy long), she'd already tossed it and pulled an empty cone, which was promptly handed to me, seeming disappointed she'd been so wrong.
In order to avoid wasting more time or anything else, I thanked her profusely and headed out.
Eventually we got home, and I started my son eating his chicken nuggets, stored the sandwiches in the fridge, and promptly called the store to inform them that there people are pretty awesome and that, despite the fact that there was a crazy-long line and I didn't explain myself well at the time (being distracted and in the heat of the moment of line pressure), the lady that prepped the ice-cream-cone-in-a-cup for me and my son was awesome, and was entirely right to do so. She did good and should feel good.
After that, I ate fresh Chicken Tortilla soup - that really was Chicken Tortilla soup - and shared it with my three-year-old, fed my newborn his milk and put him down for a nap, and then ate my glorious, glorious over-priced-but-I-don't-care salad.
I put my son to his nap time (after doling out a tiny bit of ice cream into his cone for him to eat and wrestling for about half and hour so the sugar rush turned into a sugar crash - perfect for nap time enforcement) and grabbed the soup that I'd put in the microwave to put away... and discovered that 1) I'd meant "Chicken Enchilada" (sigh, I do that all the time) and 2) I'd grabbed the can to the left of the Chicken Enchilada soup and half-prepped the Chickarina soup instead.
HILARIOUS, AMIRITE?!
Anyway, it, too, went into the fridge for later, and we enjoyed way too much Chik-fil-A food for a while to come.
THE END!
Now to go feed my infant who just started crying, thereby still avoiding doing dishes and naps! I'm a genius! :D
So what are your Overly-Long Pointless Anecdotes that go Nowhere? Share and discuss!
* No, seriously, though, I'm super sleep-deprived right now. I may well forget this exists later. Sorry.
Alright! Overly-Long Pointless Anecdotes that go Nowhere you say?! I can do that!
(THIS IS SUCH A GREAT IDEA YOU GUYS)
So the other day, it was time for me to pick my son up from school, and he was hungry, as I knew he would be.
Earlier, before leaving to pick him up from school, I'd poured a can of Chicken Enchilada soup into a bowl and put it into the microwave so we'd have warm soup when we got home.
When I talked with him, he wanted lunch, so I mentioned the soup, though hilariously, due to exhaustion and natural dyslexia, I called it "Chicken Tortilla soup" (yeah, I get those names confused all the time, but only in the soups don'tjudgeme!). He became quite obsessed with this term, even as he was adamant that we go to "CHICKA-FLE" as he calls it. After some negotiation, I agree, and we head to Chik-fil-A.
On the way there, we had a... difficult... discussion, in which I had to inform him... inform him... that... that he couldn't... that he couldn't go inside. It was simply awful. See, his baby brother was so premature, and had anemia, and such a low immune system, that we simply can't go inside public places with him (whether Publix or Chik-fil-A) because him getting sick would be... bad. Though I didn't explain the why's to my son, I did reasonably and calmly discuss the terrible situation of being entirely unable to go into the Chik-fil-A to play on their playground (they do have the best play-ground; hence the tragedy of it all), but instead only through the drive-through. I made sure that he understood we could grab something else instead, or just go home and have our Chicken Tortilla soup*.
* PFFFFFT HAH! It never gets old, I'm telling ya!
But he was an exceptionally brave little buddy, and eventually came to accept the tragic truth that "we just can't do that right now", and still wanted to eat chicken from Chik-fil-A. So we continued onward.
Thus, we found ourselves in the drive-through line at Chik-fil-A, and it was suuuuuuuuuuuuuppeeeeeeerrrrrrr crowded (as it always seems to be whenever I drive past it), and I was talking to my three-year-old, who was being very loud* (especially for him) while this was happening, asking me about soup, and what he was going to get, and all sorts of three-year-old questions meant to while the time away when we were stuck in the Drive-Through.
* But for reals? My son is the best. Like, I know you others with kids also tend toward thinking your kids are the best, and they probably are, but my son is the best. He is SO DAGGUM SWEET, loves his brother, mommy, me, and family SO MUCH, the kid is quiet, nice and kind (well, usually), and just THE BEST. And so is his baby brother. :D
So I was making my order - three sandwhiches* and a kids meal - when Ben starts asking me - a lot - about the "Chicken Tortilla Soup" at home. "Yes," I reply, "Chicken Tortilla Soup at home! A biiiiig bowl!" He doesn't want it, and I've already ordered, so we're staying with what I did order.
* One for me now-ish, one for mommy when she got home eventually, and one for the two of us to split late at night when we were taking our "up all night" shifts.
Opting for an exceptionally rare treat* I ordered an ice cream in a cup! (A small one, of course.) Hearing the words "ice cream" had a profound effect on the child. Immediately he began begging for an "ice cream cone" and that "I need it right now" which, you know, is seriously unlike him**. Eventually, I broke down and ordered just an empty cone for my son, which the order-taker informed me they could switch out an ice cream cone for a toy for saving me money. I liked the idea and went with that "instead". Since I wasn't getting ice cream, I decided to grab mommy a milk shake as well. Ben, super-excited, informed me that he loved his ice cream, like I loved my salad***. He worms the full details of my salad preference in the car while we're waiting on the order-taker to total things (and make sure they had everything - there was a danger that they'd run out of some of our order, though they didn't), and finally the order-taker informs me that I can pull forward.
* Going out-to-eat is a rare treat anyway, but this was a man-date with the three boys, so I figured we'd "go all out" on this one! Woo!
** My guess? The Grandparents have had an influence. A dark, dark influence. GRAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNND-PAAAAARREEEEEEEENNNNTTTSSSSS!!!!!!11111!!!!111oneo neone111!!!!11111!!!!! *shakes fist* (By which, of course, I mean, "I really, really do deeply appreciate you taking our son from time to time, even if your policies of food acquisition and service differ from my own. Super appreciative!")
*** You know, I really don't know how he knows this. It's... not something we've ever discussed until that moment in the car. Clever kid, picking it up from some other adult.
I hand the young lady (different from the fellow who took my order) my card, while explaining to my older son that hitting my younger son in the face with Thomas is a bad idea (he wasn't hitting him yet, but he was trying to get him to look at it) and that he needed to put his toy away for now, and she politely allowed me to parent. I received my receipt and card back promptly, and received: a cup of ice cream (oh, huh, okay, I guess we didn't switch out after all), a cup of kid's lemonade, a large cup of coke with no ice (Hah! That guy recognized me almost a year later, and gave me that for free! So nice of him!), and three sandwhiches... and a large tortilla soup, and a salad with berry balsamic vinaigrette, and a fruit cup (casually mentioned with my son about what mommy likes).
Stunned, I checked my bill - for $33-dollars, more or less - and going over what was said, confirmed that, yeah, they'd probably taken those things as me ordering. WELP.
Another lady then shows me an upside-down kids cone with ice cream in it, all placed neatly in a cup so it couldn't get everywhere, and asks if that's what I'd wanted. She was quite pleased with herself, and I was shocked that it existed! In a state of fugue (combined sleep-deprivation with "oh, snap, I got a lot more food than I thought!") I informed her that it wasn't - I'd just meant an empty cone - but that I thought it was really great, although by the time I'd gotten the last part out, in order to facilitate a swift moving line (which was, I mention again, reeeeeeaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllyyyyyy long), she'd already tossed it and pulled an empty cone, which was promptly handed to me, seeming disappointed she'd been so wrong.
In order to avoid wasting more time or anything else, I thanked her profusely and headed out.
Eventually we got home, and I started my son eating his chicken nuggets, stored the sandwiches in the fridge, and promptly called the store to inform them that there people are pretty awesome and that, despite the fact that there was a crazy-long line and I didn't explain myself well at the time (being distracted and in the heat of the moment of line pressure), the lady that prepped the ice-cream-cone-in-a-cup for me and my son was awesome, and was entirely right to do so. She did good and should feel good.
After that, I ate fresh Chicken Tortilla soup - that really was Chicken Tortilla soup - and shared it with my three-year-old, fed my newborn his milk and put him down for a nap, and then ate my glorious, glorious over-priced-but-I-don't-care salad.
I put my son to his nap time (after doling out a tiny bit of ice cream into his cone for him to eat and wrestling for about half and hour so the sugar rush turned into a sugar crash - perfect for nap time enforcement) and grabbed the soup that I'd put in the microwave to put away... and discovered that 1) I'd meant "Chicken Enchilada" (sigh, I do that all the time) and 2) I'd grabbed the can to the left of the Chicken Enchilada soup and half-prepped the Chickarina soup instead.
HILARIOUS, AMIRITE?!
Anyway, it, too, went into the fridge for later, and we enjoyed way too much Chik-fil-A food for a while to come.
THE END!
Now to go feed my infant who just started crying, thereby still avoiding doing dishes and naps! I'm a genius! :D
So what are your Overly-Long Pointless Anecdotes that go Nowhere? Share and discuss!