I need, I need, I neeeeeeeeed!
The title could honestly apply to nearly anything Daniel sees these days, particularly anything James has or is looking at or that Daniel thinks James is thinking about, but in this particular case it refers to the near total meltdown that happened at the start of dessert after supper tonight.
But we need to back up a bit first.
The week before last Daniel came down with an utterly MISERABLE flu. The kind of bad that on Sunday morning Christine took him to CHEO because he was significantly dehydrated. (I originally wrote "severely" in there, but that's not true. Erin's son Alex had the same flu and he became severely dehydrated, Daniel wasn't nearly that bad.) By Tuesday he was over it and by Thursday he was back to eating a bigger breakfast than James and I put together, but on Friday of last week the other shoe dropped. Around four on Friday morning James barfed and was down for the weekend and the bulk of this week.
I stayed home with him on Monday and since he seemed to be pretty good in the morning, opted to keep his regular appointment at CHEO with the orthopedic team over there. ("Regular" implies something that's not really true here, let's call it "routine" because it doesn't happen with any regularity, but it isn't for anything specific.) The appointment was for 11:00am, though, and we had plenty of time to kill in the morning, so I decided we would do something fun with the day.
We made ice cream sandwiches. Well, we made an ice cream sandwich. A 12" one.
I tried explaining the plan to James a couple of times but he just didn't comprehend the craziness I was talking about. On the other hand he was 110% committed to baking two 12" chocolate chip cookies. That was all he wanted to talk about to the team at the amputee clinic. On the way home we bought 2L of vanilla frozen yogurt and I let it soften while we ate our lunch. Unfortunately by this time the flu was reasserting itself and while James wasn't nauseous yet (that wouldn't really come until much later in the evening) he obviously was out of steam, so he didn't participate much in the final assembly. I packed the whole thing up and put it in the deep freeze, not to be spoken of again until everyone was healthy.
Everyone was healthy last night, actually, but it was Thursday so I was doing that thing where I count impossibly high numbers while dragging my golf clubs around a pleasant trail through the woods. So tonight after supper I brought out our giant ice cream sandwich.
That's when Daniel absolutely lost his mind. There was no way we could've possibly given him a big enough piece to reassure him nor was there any way it could've landed on his plate fast enough.
But we need to back up a bit first.
The week before last Daniel came down with an utterly MISERABLE flu. The kind of bad that on Sunday morning Christine took him to CHEO because he was significantly dehydrated. (I originally wrote "severely" in there, but that's not true. Erin's son Alex had the same flu and he became severely dehydrated, Daniel wasn't nearly that bad.) By Tuesday he was over it and by Thursday he was back to eating a bigger breakfast than James and I put together, but on Friday of last week the other shoe dropped. Around four on Friday morning James barfed and was down for the weekend and the bulk of this week.
I stayed home with him on Monday and since he seemed to be pretty good in the morning, opted to keep his regular appointment at CHEO with the orthopedic team over there. ("Regular" implies something that's not really true here, let's call it "routine" because it doesn't happen with any regularity, but it isn't for anything specific.) The appointment was for 11:00am, though, and we had plenty of time to kill in the morning, so I decided we would do something fun with the day.
We made ice cream sandwiches. Well, we made an ice cream sandwich. A 12" one.
I tried explaining the plan to James a couple of times but he just didn't comprehend the craziness I was talking about. On the other hand he was 110% committed to baking two 12" chocolate chip cookies. That was all he wanted to talk about to the team at the amputee clinic. On the way home we bought 2L of vanilla frozen yogurt and I let it soften while we ate our lunch. Unfortunately by this time the flu was reasserting itself and while James wasn't nauseous yet (that wouldn't really come until much later in the evening) he obviously was out of steam, so he didn't participate much in the final assembly. I packed the whole thing up and put it in the deep freeze, not to be spoken of again until everyone was healthy.
Everyone was healthy last night, actually, but it was Thursday so I was doing that thing where I count impossibly high numbers while dragging my golf clubs around a pleasant trail through the woods. So tonight after supper I brought out our giant ice cream sandwich.
That's when Daniel absolutely lost his mind. There was no way we could've possibly given him a big enough piece to reassure him nor was there any way it could've landed on his plate fast enough.
It was a good evening.
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