We’re a little under three weeks away from the next MRI.
Yesterday, while at the grocery store, I was able to stop saying “Don’t lick the cart” long enough to help the kids pick two big, orange pumpkins for the front porch. In a mad effort to redirect children from pulling items off the shelves and insisting that their quality of life was in serious jeopardy if we didn’t get chocolate pudding cups, I suggested they work on naming the pumpkins. The names “Darcy”, “Aidan”, “Chase”, and “Karsten” were almost immediately suggested and disqualified as four names and two pumpkins don’t go together very well. This moment may also have included a few slight disagreement phrases and the completely not-dramatic screech of “Fine! I’m never going to play with you again as long as I live!”. On a semi-related note, it’s very hard to stomp off in high dudgeon when you’re sitting in a grocery cart.
Next came the inspired suggestion to name one of the pumpkins “Dr. Lulla” after Chase’s favorite doctor. Ever the fairness moderator, the oldest child suggested that they name the other one “Dr. Fangusaro”…but then the entire group realized that they’d have no third pumpkin to name “Dr. Goldman”, and as Dr. Goldman is the neuro-oncologist who gives them candy, they realized that they could not, in good conscience exclude him. …so “Dr. Lulla” got scrapped.
The oldest then suggested in her most existential voice that the pumpkins should be named “Dan” and “Brendsel” as he’d preached last Sunday at church. And not to be outdone, the next oldest suggested -in his most existential attempt- that maybe they should be named “The Church” and “The Earth”…or, “Bob” and “Rob”. (He couldn’t decide which seemed more existential.)
Then, the youngest looked out the window, saw a jet passing overhead and suggested they should both be named “Airplane”. The bald one, who was sitting on the other side of the van and couldn’t see the jet out of his window, insisted that there was no airplane and a minor argument on the finer points of never playing with each other ever again ensued.
At which point, feeling truly inspired, the second oldest broke into the argument: “You know…that team that plays football that we hate and they eat cheese?!” “You mean the Packers?”, I asked, as I realized that he probably doesn’t have a shot at pro ball. Ever. “Oh yeah, those are the ones!”, I was assured.
At this moment, I found myself back in the driveway of my own home and the discussion was thankfully over and the pudding cups successfully dodged, but the question of pumpkin names remains… The current favorites are “The Green Bay Packers” and “The Chicago Bears”.
Happy Fall. Never a dull…
Moment by moment.
You have successfully made my day today with this post. My children either can’t live without each other, or “I’m not gonna be your sister anymore,” or “You’re not my best friend,” or some other drama filled statement is coming out of their mouth. Thank you for normalizing my experience.