This morning, I was awakened by 35 pounds of pouncing toddler. I remember looking at the clock and thinking it was entirely too early to be in a conscious state, but it's not easy to go back to sleep with a Minibeast jumping on the bed and singing, "Mimi! Mimi! I want a Twinklie!"
I have no one to blame but myself. Yesterday Mini watched Wall-E and there is one scene where he unwraps a Twinkie for his little bug friend, and the critter climbs inside one of the cream filling stab wounds on the underbelly of the cake. I pointed that out to Mini and told him it was a Twinkie. He didn't seem to be listening at the time, but I guess he's better at multi-tasking than I am.
Once Oldest was home from school, I told him to get his brother's shoes and let's make a dash to see the kitties. So, we did. We dropped off the trash at the local kittie zoo, did a fill up at the Wolf Stop, and went to the grocery store - mostly for milk, bread and coffee supplies, the latter because it's safer for everyone in the house if Mimi is properly caffeinated.
After that stop, we had to go across town to pick up a bag of kibbles for Kinz the pitbull and the ravenous hoarde of neighbor dogs. I have to get the el cheapo 20 lbs bag of dollar store kibs so I afford to feed the neighborhood menagerie, but I will admit the stuff smells like ground-up horse gibblets complete with hay leavin's. But as long as the dogs will eat it...ya know?
Anyway, at the dollar store, I sent Oldest in on his own, and as he's getting out of the Jeep, I told him to pick up a box of Twinkies. Oldest response was "Woohoo!" Then he's gone to pick up the goods while I entertain Mini. Five minutes later, Oldest come out of the store with the dogfood and one pack of red velvet fakie Twinkies.
"Uh, this is it?" I ask.
"There weren't any real ones," Oldest tells me, "not even in a box. So if Mini doesn't want those, I'll eat them."
"Yes, I'm sure you would, Oldest." He's a 17 year old bottomless pit.
I unwrap the Twinkies and pass one to Oldest and one to Mini. Always divide the sugar.
"For the love of God, Mini, whatever you do, don't squeeze the darn thing." Mini takes the cake in hand, and I tell him. "It's a Twinkie, like on Wall-E."
"Wall-E cake!" His eyes brighten at that, and I swear he devours this thing. And that's really saying something because Mini isn't much of a sweet eater.
Ever since this grand event yesterday, Mini has been asking for more, "Twinklies." Ya know, I think I like his name for it better than the real thing, but I also think I've created a monster. That has got to be one of the worst things ever to feed a kid. Whenever will I learn?
A quick note about writerly things... I cleaned up the chapter of doom last night, but I still feel like I didn't stick the ending. Arg! I am so running out of time with this thing. It doesn't help matters that I'm really itching to be through with it so I can move on to something else. Regardless of how the world turns, I must stick that ending today, and start revisions on that last chapter. *mantra*
Happy hump day, everyone!