Also known as a Tale in which the Oldest Kidlet Overreacts.
Sometime last weekend I realized that I’d been wrong in telling the Oldest Kidlet (who had been home, sick, on Friday) that we could retrieve his lost hat at school on Monday. Because Monday was Martin Luther King day, and his school was closed.
Usually, Monday means grocery shopping- and since I hadn’t planned on everyone being home, it became a family excursion. I’d also forgotten to delete the alarm reminders that tell me when to leave to drop off OK and pick him up. (Not that I think I’d forget about him, but it keeps me on time)
We stopped at Target, and managed to only buy what was on our list. This is a rare occurrence, since I usually think of something we’ve forgotten. To celebrate (though more likely because he hadn’t had any coffee yet) TheBoy asked if I wanted Starbucks and I said yes. I got my usual, he got his drink (the titular cafe mocha) and bought a juice box for the Little Kidlet and a thing of milk for the Oldest Kidlet and we went on our way to the grocery store.
It was obvious that the Oldest Kidlet was getting tired. He wanted to hang off the front of the cart. Then he wanted to sit inside the cart. And began to whine about everything. But we left the store without much incident.
We pulled up to the house, and began to unload. I went out the passenger door and opened the sliding door on my side to unhook one kidlet, who rushed out the other open car door (towards the house). I walked around the back while TheBoy unhooked the other kidlet and helped the Oldest Kidlet slide the door closed. I started to unload our purchases and TheBoy came to grab a few bags when we heard a… PLOP! followed by the wailing of the Oldest Kidlet. “OH NOOOOO!” TheBoy’s Cafe Mocha, which he’d set on the porch on the outside of the railing had been accidentally knocked over by LK and lay next to the van, spilling it’s chocolatey goodness.
Mind you, TheBoy and I immediately started to reassure him that it was fine, and it was just a cup of coffee… but to him, it was the end of the world. In fact, it wasn’t until TheBoy got out the hose to wash it away that the meltdown ended.
I’m not sure what it was that set him off about it. He might have been hungry, or tired (or both), but I couldn’t shake the thought that the way the drink spilled out of the coffee that it looked like the flow of blood in movies and on TV.
Later in the night, my father in law asked why the driveway was wet. I relayed the story (boiled down to LK accidentally spilled the cup of coffee, and OK cried) and went back to looking at a picture book with the Little Kidlet.
“So that’s what happened,” my father in law said. “There’s still a little stain and it looked like blood. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what happened.”
Nice to know I wasn’t the only one.