So I’m looking in Samantha’s bag after she gets back from an outing to the zoo.  “Why didn’t you eat your lunch?”

“I didn’t know what kind of sandwiches they were, and I only eat certain sandwiches.”

“Oh really.  They were chocolate.”

“What kind of chocolate?  Peanut butter and chocolate chip, or chocolate spread?”

“Chocolate spread.”

“I don’t eat that kind.  I only eat chocolate spread a certain way.  I only eat that in my chocolate soufflé.  The chocolate only goes on one side of one slice of bread, and then I put that on five crackers.”

“Fine.  Go pull those sandwiches apart, and make them into soufflé, because this is all you’re getting for lunch, but you have to actually eat it.  I keep finding those on plates around the house.”

“Well, that’s because I make them for other people, and they don’t appreciate them.”

She didn’t eat them.  Seth found her plate, and insisted he would die of neglect and starvation if that was not his lunch immediately.



bubbies-pickles-132951There were two pickles left in the jar.  Samantha had already had pickles today, so we agreed that Simon and Seth would each get one of the last remaining pickles. They were the runts of the jar.

All four of us were standing in the kitchen. Seth declared that he would be the jar opener, and as soon as he had his hands on the jar, we all knew this had gone badly awry. His hands were shaking, his eyes were wild, and he was glaring at Simon. My hands were in the dirty dishes. “Seth, wait!”

He yanks that jar open, plunges his tiny fist into the pickle juice, and brings up both pickles. He discards the jar on Samantha. All in the time it takes to blink.

I’m trying to grab him, and Simon is screaming, “NOOOOOOO!!!!!”

Seth sinks his teeth into both pickles, ripping a bite out of each. He shows Simon the bit off ends, with a loud, “HMPH!” as he chows down on the enormous amount of pickle in his mouth.

Simon falls to the floor, weeping and wailing, while Seth struts and hmphs and postures, eating those pickles like a wood chipper gnaws through timber.

Seth doesn’t even LIKE pickles. But apparently, soaked in the brine of his brother’s tears, they are DELICIOUS!