I’m pretty sure that my Mother of the Year award is at least in the platinum stage for as many times as I’ve won the friggin’ thing. Most of the time I award myself in hindsight once I see the event from a slightly removed perspective. However, occassionally I present myself the trophy in the moment of the parental awesomeness because it is so phenomenal that no time is necessary to process the grandeur. Sometimes my kids recognize my winning ways and even they have been known to bestow the coveted achievement.
This morning, I conferred the honor after the children left for school.
Scene: the kitchen
I gave the Boy a piece of apple pie for breakfast. (No, that is definitely not what merited the award. Pssh, that has fruit in it for Pete’s sake. Therefore a healthy breakfast. Sheesh.) I even heated the delicious and nutritious pie in the microwave so it was warm and yummy. I got out a cup and the milk. Napkin and fork.
(I was feeling very June Cleaveresque what with all the making him a lovely breakfast and such. Normally it’s more of a “get your own bowl and spoon, I’m making my tea” kind of thing.)
He was nearly done eating when I heard him at the sink spitting and rinsing and swishing and spitting over and over.
Me: “What are you doing???”
Boy: “There’s mold in my pie!!!!”
Me: (walking over to look at it to confirm) “Oh, yah, I see that. Hmm, well, you know, penicillin was made from mold so actually it’s probably ok. You’ll be fine.”
Boy: “Seriously?! Who knows how much mold I ate?! I ate almost the whole thing! Aaaaahhhh! This is so gross. I feel so groooossssss!! My tongue feels moldy!!”
Me: “Oh, stop. I already told you. It’s fine. Look, you’re probably even healthier now than you were before you ate it.”
Boy: “Seriously? Really, Mom? Gaaaah!”
Yah, I fed my kid moldy pie for breakfast. Good news, though. I didn’t eat my piece of moldy pie since he found it in his. Whew! Crisis averted!!
Mother. of. the. Year.