There is a bowl of grapes in my fridge. Fresh, tasty grapes that have become my daytime indulgence when the snack demons start gnawing at my brain to cram pieces of fudge in my mouth. I keep them on the low shelf of my fridge, because that’s where they fit.
And that’s how our story of obsession and crying begins. Not mine, Lily’s.
Two days ago, she was toddling along the kitchen cupboards testing each one to make sure they still opened nicely. Glass bowls within reach? Check. Mommy’s good cooking pans in disarray? Check. And then she came to the fridge. The giant, bright cold box she still hasn’t figured out yet. Except that mommy really likes to stare into it each day. And when Mommy went into the fridge on that wonderful day, she plucked from it a handful of green grapes. Seeing her baby’s forlorned and curious look, the Mommy bit down the grape until all that was left was a teeny niblet just big enough for a baby’s fingers to grasp. And with that, a niblet of grape went into Lily’s mouth. And the refrigerator was reborn as The Grape Dispensing Machine.
Now everytime The Grape Dispensing Machine opens, and doesn’t produce a grape niblet, Lily feels justified in punishing The Grape Dispensing Machine. Bad! I will slap you and scream until the grapes come out of you! And if The Grape Dispensing Machine opens and is too slow in releasing the niblets (ie Mommy is trying to find what veg has rotted in the back of the fridge), Lily will reach in and pluck a bunch straight from the bowl, shake them politely, and then cram them all in her mouth.
And so today, we will not eat out of the fridge. We are scared to open The Grape Dispensing Machine. It causes screams and shouts, and even the occasional bite. Instead, we will be eating out of the Cheerio Dispensing Cupboard that is very fickle and doesn’t pay out very well, so Lily has learned, no matter how much you hit it.
| 2.5 |
Katie






