So I was racing around, flinging sunscreen at exposed skin, towels in the swim bag, and orders at boys, when Raphi trotted up to me.
“Ah eat mummy byoo cawwot,” he announced.
“Mmm-hmmm,” I replied supportively. I was busy trying to get sunscreen on Max’s neck, who seemed to feel that was some sort of threat to him. But the words slowly sunk in. Did he just say he ate a yummy blue carrot? I looked at my little angel Raphael, and his mouth was ringed with bright blue. He opened wide to show me his bright blue tongue. That color blue can’t be good for him, I thought, and he made a face.
“Yucky,” he confessed. Yes. I would think so.
“Where’s the blue carrot, honey?” I simply could not imagine what he could have gotten into. He danced off, deciding he was tired of the blue carrot game. So I dropped everything to search the house for what on EARTH he could have been chewing on. You’ll all be pleased to hear it was just a stick of sidewalk chalk. I took it over to show it to him.
“Don’t eat this,” I instructed sweetly, “this is not food.” He regarded the chalk soberly for a moment, and then licked it. “NO,” I said with somewhat more intensity, “DON’T eat the chalk. Yucky.” This time he tried to bite it, before I snatched it away and put it up on a shelf.
“Meanie!”He yelled happily. He ran away, and announced proudly to his brothers, “I talk a meanie.”
Sigh
Well, the sidewalk chalk box says it’s non-toxic, so I guess he’ll be ok. And we made it to swimming lessons more or less on time, so that’s good. And no matter what Raphael eats next, no matter how long he enjoys the thrill of the “talk a meanie,” I cling to one thought.
Eventually they all go to bed.