I haven’t lost a single iota of love for my children, but I certainly seem to be lacking in mothering energy this weekend. Here’s a little vignette that illustrates what I’m getting at.
Vivi has a stomachache, so she didn’t touch her waffle this morning. I dropped it in the dog’s bowl as I was cleaning up breakfast…about 4:30pm. About an hour later, I hear G ask the baby, “Where’d you get that waffle, Buddy?” and in a split-second glance, I assess that:
- the waffle is missing from the dog bowl
- there have been no other sources of wafflery today
- the waffle in the baby’s hand is almost gone
- he’s eaten worse
- my Daddy (a veterinarian) never worries when kids eat a little dog food
CONCLUSION: I didn’t say a word. Just went on about m’business.
Well, until now. Hey, G! Carlos got the waffle out of Huck’s bowl and he’s FINE! Look how his eyes sparkle! And isn’t his coat thick and glossy?