Thursday, January 2, 2014

Much Ado About Mustard




My three-and-a-half year old looked up from watching Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood and said "Mommy, can I have milk?" "With lunch." "What's for lunch then, Mommy?" "Sandwiches". With a gleam in his big brown eyes he jumped up and said excitedly, "CAN I MAKE MY SANDWICH, PLEEEEEEASE?" "Well, ok". He bounced up and down and yelled "Yaaaaay" all the way to the kitchen.

    "Get your stepstool, honey". "Ok ok, okaaaaaaay". He opened the fridge and shrugged. "What do I do?" "Get the mustard". He looked up in the shelf inside the door of the fridge, saw the mustard and grinned. He reached for the turkey. "The mustard." He reached for the cheese and grinned. "The mustard." He grabbed the mustard and set it on the counter. "Now the cheese." He deftly pulled a slice of cheese out of the package and set it next to the mustard. "Now the turkey." He pulled the container out and set it on the counter. "Ok, now the bread". I reached for the bag of bread. He snatched it from me and pulled two slices out.

    "Now pick up the mustard." He struggled with the flip-up lid. I tried to help. We both got our fingers pinched in the process, but eventually we did get the mustard open. "Ok, now--"Sploot!" And there we were, dotted with mustard chicken pox. The water inside the mustard bottle had drifted to the surface, giving rise to a very messy kitchen and two very messy, very hungry people. Oddly enough, none of the mustard had actually reached the bread. "Ok, let me--" Aaaaaand there went one very mustardy piece of bread. I managed to wrest the bottle away to fix the second piece of bread. I sighed. "Ok, let's talk turkey." He counted the slices. "One. Twooooo. Threeee." I opened the Kraft Single wrapper. He put the cheese on the bread and gave me a quizzical look. "Now we put the sandwich together." His face brightened. Finally finished! He carefully transferred one half to the other. I got a plate out of the dishwasher. His face beamed as he carried that sandwich-filled plate to the table.

 I put the food away. Turning around from the fridge I heard, "Mommy, Can I have milk?"


We are both still covered in mustard.                            

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