Contraband

Graham’s been, uh, bound up the last couple of days. (Sorry, buddy.) So, I decided to take a proactive this morning to help encourage a little activity ifyouknowwhatimean.

I stopped at the store for some apple juice on the way to school. Now, apple juice has been strictly verboten at our house because, well, it goes straight through the G-man, but this seemed like an appropriate time to give him a little taste of what he’s been missing.

Graham’s school doesn’t serve juice – just milk at mealtimes and water at snacktime, so I cleared it through his teacher to make sure it’d be okay if I gave him the apple juice in his sippy instead of milk during breakfast. I got Graham seated at the table and handed him his juice.

His eyes bugged out of his little head. “JUICE!!!!?!?!??!?!” I whispered, “Yeah, bud, we get a little treat this morning,” to which he replied, “JUICE!!!!!!!” and started waving it around his head, sloshing the stuff all around in his sippy. All the kids started to look at Graham, and I’m like ‘Dude, be cool or you’re going to get mobbed here.’  They started to slowly move in. One kid pointed a pudgy finger at Graham’s cup and said, “I wan dat.”

It seriously resembled a zombie attack, except with sleepy toddlers instead of the undead lumbering slowly toward my son.

Thankfully, the breakfast routine is sacred – not everyone has breakfast at school, some eat before they come – so the kids are well-taught that they need to leave the breakfast-eaters alone. Graham’s teacher set down his plate of pancakes (yes, how out-of-his-freaking-toddler-mind must Graham have been at his breakfast this morning?!) and shooed all the kids away. They complied.

And my son happily sucked his juice down while kicking those chubby little legs of his in elation.

Now I just hope it was worth it!

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