Fossilized treats

7-year-old Ethan and 10-year-old Zayd were in my bedroom talking Christmas gifts when 15-year-old Zach  storms in holding up a Little Debbie Oatmeal Cookie Sandwich - with two bites taken out of it.

Little Debbie Oatmeal Cookie Sandwiches are two soft oatmeal cookies (made with loads of Crisco) with a Crisco-based frosting slathered in between...

It's his favorite treat. And I purchased a big box of them to keep in his room - otherwise the box is gone in 5 minutes.

Zach: Okay. WHO took two bites out of this Little Debbie and then left it in my room?!

Zayd and Ethan's eyes grow wide... I can see the wheels turning. They are either trying to remember if they were the culprit, or trying to figure out how they will lie themselves out of this one.

Zach: Seriously? Who did it? Which one of you?!

Zayd: I didn't!

Ethan: I did not eat your Little Debbie. I swear it was not me!

Zach: Right. (he says sarcastically) I'm SURE neither of you were in my room digging around my stuff.

Zach's brothers do, indeed, go into his room and dig around for stuff. They dig because there are clearly treasures to be found in the piles - like Little Debbie boxes filled with Crisco-laden oatmeal treats. They've also found money, cologne, and underarm deodorant - which they seem to like. And they dig because it's probably fun. I mean you walk into this bedroom full of piles of stuff - who knows what you'll find next. It's the best archeological adventure ever - right in their own home.

Ethan: I did not eat it Zach!

Zach: It's not even that anyone ate it. Really. I don't even care. But one of you took TWO bites and just left it there?! Why? Why do you guys do that! What a waste! Just eat it!

Zayd: I wasn't in your room today.

Ethan: Me neither. I wasn't there today,

Zach: Oh, this clearly happened a while ago.

Zach holds up the Little Debbie and knocks on it with his knuckles...

...and it sounds like he is knocking on a door.

Zayd: Oh my gosh! (he starts giggling). It's like a rock!

Ethan: Do that again! (laughing)

pause

Zach: Stop going into my room.

He marches out.

Now watch... they'll go in again...
He's just given them another reason to dig for fossils...

Dumb it down please...

We are watching The Amazing Race tonight and one of the contestants mentions she has diabetes.

Zayd: What is diabetes?

Paul: Her pancreas doesn't produce enough insulin.

pause

Zach: Oh my God dad!

Zayd starts laughing.

Paul: What?!

Zach: Her pancreas doesn't produce enough insulin? Seriously. He's 10. Let's try to dumb it down a little.

pause

Paul: Okay. Her life juice isn't being produced by her squishy thingy.

Finish your meat

I am no longer allowed to tell you how much my 15-year-old weighs (I have been given strict orders not to do that)... but let's just say that when I took him into the clinic early this week for pneumonia, the doctor asked me...
Doctor: Why is he so skinny?

Then she turns to Zach before I can answer and asks him...

Doctor: Doesn't your mom feed you?

This question wouldn't have been so bad if she had a sense of humor about it. But she was clearly serious. For the rest of our visit I was pretty sure I was about to be reported to social services for starving my 15-year-old...

He eats... but oftentimes things that aren't really good for him. He'll have several bowls of ice cream, but won't eat dinner...

Zach was feeling much better by Thursday so I made a juicy pot roast in the crockpot. As dinner is winding down, Zach gets up to take his plate to the sink...with ALL the meat left on his plate.

Me: Zach. Eat your meat.

Zach: I ate my meat.

Me: What's that on your plate then?

Zach: That's just what I didn't eat. I ate a lot!

Me: Zach. I only gave you a little bit of meat and I'm pretty sure you didn't eat any of it. Eat it. You need it.

Zach. But I don't like meat.

Me: I don't care. Eat it.

And don't tell me he doesn't like meat. This kid can swallow an entire Big Mac... he eats chili, meatballs, steak, chicken, fish...

He sits back down and I start helping Ethan with his homework. A few minutes later Zach gets up again to bring his plate to the sink...

This time the pieces of pot roast have been methodically dotted all over the plate.

Me: Zach. You didn't eat your meat.

Zach: Yes I did! Look at my plate!

pause

Me: Zach. All you did was spread your meat around the plate.

He stands there and stares at me motionless for a few moments. Then he sits down again.

Within a minute he gets up again and approaches me. Now the pieces of pot roast are neatly placed in a row... with his fork laying on top of them.

o.m.g.

Me: Zach. Seriously?

Zach: What?

Me: You didn't eat any of it?

Zach: I ate all of it!

pause

I stare at him. 

Zach But mooooommmmmmm! I don't like this meat!

Me: Okay. Just eat a few pieces, okay? Just eat like four pieces.

...because all I can think about is Dr. Lydia from the Children's Walk-In Clinic staring at my son two days ago and then looking at me like I have him chained up in some cage without food.

Zach walks to the other side of the kitchen... and stands there....He puts all the meat in his mouth and starts chewing.
...and chewing...
...and chewing..

I turn away...

Zach: I'm done!

He's done?

Again. We stand across the kitchen from each other... I look him over... and it only takes a couple seconds for me to notice his hands are behind his back.

Me: Oh my God Zach. Really. Really?

Zach: What?!

Me: Let me see your hands.

He slowly brings out one hand from behind his back.

Me: Are you kidding me?

Zach: What?!

Me: Let me see your other hand.

One hand goes back behind and then the other comes out...

Me: You have a wad of chewed meat in your hand?

pause

Zach: Mommy? Pleazzzzeeee? Don't make me eat it. Pleaazzzeeee mooooommmmmm?

He is pitiful.
And a very good actor...
And cute...

pause

Me: (sigh)... Fine.

He runs to the garbage and throws away the wad of meat...

Ethan: Hey wait a minute! Don't throw that away! I might want it!

pause

I'm pretty sure Ethan didn't know it was chewed up meat....

at least that is what I am telling myself.

Bad Brain

Ethan and I are sitting on the couch together, watching home videos. He has been a handful today... quite needy and whiny...

Ethan: Mom?

Me: What?

Ethan: Uhm.. I did something that I think you are going to get mad about.

Me: Okay. What?

Ethan: Uhm... you know my bear?

He shows me his bear.

Ethan: He has this yellow rain hat? I was holding him up to the fireplace glass and his hat kinda melted on the fireplace glass.

pause

Ethan: See? See his hat? It lost its yellow.

Me: I see that.

Ethan: And see? See the fireplace? You can kinda see the yellow on it.

I look over at the fireplace and sigh.

Me: I see that too.

pause

Ethan: I'm sorry mom. My brain is making me do it.

Me: What is your brain making you do?

Ethan: My brain. My brain isn't working right today. It's making me do things I shouldn't do...

pause

Ethan: Like whine a lot...

pause

Ethan: ...and put my bear on the fireplace

pause

Ethan: ...and stuff like that.

Me: I'm sorry to hear your brain isn't working.

Ethan: (sigh)... Yeah. Thanks.