There are so many jokes that spring to mind, here, but none is as funny as the straight-up truth: The pediatrician’s recommended remedy for Chickadee’s eczema is to coat her liberally in Crisco after each shower. Crisco. I just did it, for the first time, and it wasn’t as gross as I’d imagined. In fact, her parched skin drank it right up. But, still. Ewwww. Although, I am enjoying the ability to threaten to dust her in cornmeal and dunk her in boiling oil if she doesn’t behave.
In other news, the De-Lurking Day is enjoying huge success, both here and at other blogs. Thanks to everyone who came forth to be counted, today! And keep it going (the day’s not over yet)! I particularly needed the warm-fuzzies this evening, as I had this actual unretouched conversation in the car on the way home today:
Me: I think we’ll have chicken for dinner.
Chickadee: I don’t want chicken.
Monkey: I hate chicken.
Me: Oh, I’m sorry. And what are you making for dinner?
Chickadee: I want mac and cheese.
Me: We can’t actually eat macaroni every single night.
Monkey: I don’t want that, either.
Chickadee: I want pancakes.
Me: We’re not having pancakes.
Me: Bacon? For dinner? Um, NO. Hey, guess what!
Me: We’re having CHICKEN.
Chickadee: You never let us pick!
Me: Okay, how about this. One of you get a gun. Then the other one, hold me down. Then the one with the gun can shoot me. In the head. Then you can make your own dinner.
Monkey: I’ll shoot you!
Chickadee: I’ll hold her down!
Monkey: Then we can have pop-tarts for dinner!!
Chickadee: No, Monkey! Guess what! We can have CANDY for dinner! And we’ll never have to go to school!
Me: I’m so glad to see that in the event of my untimely demise, I would be so missed.
Monkey: You’re dead, Mama. Dead people don’t talk.