Thursday, April 19, 2012

Stifling the Runner's High

The boys and their neighbor friend decided to make flags out of sticks and construction paper.  Friend Annika made the Japanese and Russian flags.  Collin made a Batman flag.  I'm still not sure about Cooper's flag.  

Of course, the boys felt the "oppressive" heat (in the 60s) meant shirt-shedding weather.  (Rest assured, I do require them to wear pants.) 

The morning started so nicely.  An early morning jog pumped me with runner's endorphins and started me off in a stellar mood.  At 6:45 a.m., not a peep could be heard from the boys' rooms.  How rare!  How delightful!  I crept into Caleb's room and massaged his back and stroked his hair.  Caleb jerked up and with eyes barely opened announced, "I'm not going to school."  O boy.  I tried to remain positive.  I touted all the benefits of school.  Remember recess?  Isn't lunch fun?  He treated me like a snake oil salesman trying to sell him the rights to the Brooklyn Bridge.  And so his "no school" mantra continued throughout the morning, varying only in tone and intensity.

During Caleb's rant, Connor approached me with a panicked expression.  "It's stuck," he cried as he held up his index finger with a plastic purple toy contraption (my best description) lodged under the knuckle.  I tugged and pulled and even plunged the finger in cold water.  No dice.  The finger started to turn a shade of purplish-red.  I panicked and called Chris in the ER announcing his son would be his next patient.  He laughed.  Doctors, I muttered.

At that moment, an open jar of peanut butter plummeted to the floor, splattering a brown oozy substance over the floors and counters.  

I wanted to cry.

But then....

Caleb got into the carpool car, semi-willingly.

As we walked out of the house to go to the ER, the plastic ring, clasped on Connor's finger, flung free.

The peanut butter was cleaned.

I realized a "runner's high" can only withstand so much and last so long.

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