I was just waaaay too unmotivated this morning. I knew that I had errands to run, but wasn't in a hurry to start them. As a result, I paid the ultimate price today.
I had to make my pilgrimmage to Costco with all four of them. (I wasn't kidding when I said I'd be stocking up on Motrin in my previous entry.)
Afterschool, when tummies can be heard rumbling before they even make it into the van. As they groaned about our mission, I announced that they could eat there before we started to shop. This appeased them enough that all I had to do was keep Ben from killing Ryan in the backseat before we got there.
Earlier today, I went to Target, and while I was there, I became so mesmerized by the jelly beans in the big, bulk Jelly Belly display that I picked some up for Ben. I like them too, but he just loves picking them out of the bag and matching the color to the flavor. I ran into the house to get them real quick before we left for Costco. I figured if he doesn't eat them, then he and Ryan can chuck them back and forth, and voila! they'll be entertained without bloodshed.
We're driving along, and he's talking about them, and passing one up to me once in a while. "Try this one, it's peach," he says, and yum, it certainly is. "I want a green one, the apple one," I tell him, and he passes that forward.
All of a sudden, Nolan's hand appears again just as Ben says, "Here, try this one." And I automatically pop it into my mouth.
You'd think, after all these years, I'd have learned a thing or two about accepting edible gifts without question from the hands of my children. That I'd know just popping something in my mouth is not a good idea, not without checking it for oh, I don't know, edibility and cleanliness first. You'd think I'd say, "No, thanks, honey, maybe later," especially if I'm driving. But for whatever reason, I didn't.
Boy, did I regret that. Not at first, of course, but as I chewed, and wondered, 'WHAT the HELL is that?', I realized I had no option. I was turning, I couldn't roll down the window, I didn't want to spit it out all over me, and I had nothing to spit it into. I had no choice but to suffer through it.
I thought of that scene, in 'Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory,' when Violet eats the gumball or candy that is supposed to be an entire meal, then the dessert part gets her and she turns into a big blueberry. What am I gonna turn into, I wonder, because this thing tastes like crap. I'm chewing, and just when I think I've figured it out, the flavor changes again, and it's just wrong, to be tasting something buttery, then sweet, then breadish, is this toffee, oh no, the buttery taste is back, ew, eeww, EEWWW! "BEN! WHAT is that??? It's gross!"
I hear him looking, listening to the bag rustle as he's looking for it, but can't find it. "Ugh, pass me a better one forward, I have to get this taste out of my mouth."
"Sorry, Mom." And then he says, and I can't believe he says this, "I tried that one too, and didn't like it." "Well, then why did you give me one??" "I just wanted to see if you knew what it was."
Oh, that's it, there in the logic of an 8 yr old. I feel so much better. Who knew my kids thought my palate was that sophisticated, that I could figure out what the mystery flavor of a (thankfully) small jelly bean was?
Meanwhile, I'm still driving along, waiting for my transformation to occur. Hey, maybe that's the magic Marg jelly bean, and I'll 'POOF!' turn into that gorgeous redhead Marg Helgenberger from CSI. A girl can dream, can't she, and since I've just ingested what could possibly be peyote, why not live a little?
We're turning into the parking lot and he says "Oh, I found it!" "Solve the mystery, Ben."
"It's buttered popcorn!" he announces, very proud of himself. He could of said it was supposed to taste like a lump of dark Godiva the size of my fist, and I still would have told him it was the worst thing I've ever had. The flavor marriage of buttered popcorn and jelly bean must end in divorce, for the good of all mankind.
I glance in the mirror, checking to make sure that no wayward fragments are on my face.
Is that a streak of red I see in my hair??
"Wait a minute, son. Give me back that bag!!"