OK, so sometimes we all get those little reminders in life.
This one came at the hands of my little man, Anam. As I received the following life-lesson, he was sitting comfortably on my lap. He had taken up residence there after much fit-pitching and catter-walling. Post-apocalyptic melt-down, I would have done pretty much anything to get to have a 2 minute peaceful conversation with Avalon's physical therapist. Therefore, when Ambrosia interrupted us for the three hundred and second time to inform me that "Anam is pulling stuff out of the diaper bag!", I politely told her that I knew...and that it was just fine - he couldn't hurt anything. After all, its his diaper bag, right? I mean, whooptie hoo if he pulls out his extra outfit, extra plastic spoon, or 6 chew toys? No big deal....
****At this point, I need to interrupt my sorry saga for some pertinent background info. You need to know that I'm a bit frugal. While I prefer to think of myself as "inventive", "creative", and"environmentally-aware"; the reality is I'm cheap, poor, and a horrid packrat. Along those lines, I fully admit to doing "creative" things like ironing decorative tissue paper, folding it neatly, and storing it for use in future gift bags. I also pride myself on being the queen high mistress of hand-me-downs, having organized them by gender and size. And finally, it causes me great pain to throw away useful things. You know, random things - like those charming little zipper packages that toiletries or children's underwear come in. I mean, really, why buy a container for something whenI can save landfill space and re-use something? Keep this in mind as we return to our regularly scheduled ranting.***
Post Ambrosia-interruption, Miss Ann and I continued our lengthy conversation about Avalon's leg-pain issues today, her paperwork nightmare for Avalon's wheelchair, Avalon's improvement in balance, what we should be working on this week, etc (you're getting the idea this wasn't just a 30 second chat, right?) As we are chatting along, I'm vaguely aware of some snickering across from us. Anam is, at this point, happily chewing on some magical find from the diaper bag - so I naturally assume that the other waiting room families are simply enjoying one of his adorable expressions. He's rather well known for 'attacking' a chewie friend, so I just grinned back at them and continued deep in conversation with Miss Ann.
Not until Ann left to retrieve her next child and I began packing up, did I realize exactly what Anam had been chewing on. In his zest for entertainment, he had apparantly found the secret-ninja diaper bag pocket. The secret-ninja pocket which contained one of my recycling wonders, an adorable little vinyl bag with a zip-lock closure that just perfectly holds my tampon of choice. Oh...and did I mention that my recycled wonder-bag is utterly clear?
Yes, yes, the snickers had nothing to do with his adorable dimples, or his mesmerizing eyes. They were in deference to the fact that my son was not only holding my tampon keeper for all to see...but he was vigorously chewing on an OB super with all the gusto of a trucker with beef jerky. When I gasped and snatched his prize away from him, the resulting shriek was quite possibly heard on the space shuttle.
Then again, so were the gales of laughter....
- Bruhnhilda (I'm no longer going by "Alicia" - at least not for a fewweeks....)