Sneaking Under A Mum Radar

Rachel was two years old when some sort of bug attacked her digestive system with a vengeance. My doctor ordered the BRAT  Diet (bananas, rice, applesauce, toast) to remedy the lingering diarrhea problem.

Poor Rachel! It seemed like she ate the ‘brat diet’  forever. She looked so pitiful at meal times as she eyed her siblings plates and the turned back dejectedly to look at her bowl of rice.

Emily, Rachel’s partner in work and play, understood her little sister’s frustration with this imposed spartan diet; so she decided to do something about it. Quick witted as always, Emily chose to carry out her plan when I was safely out of the kitchen.

“Mission Impossible” commenced while I was in a darkened bedroom, nursing  our baby to sleep;  Katie was at the age when everything caught  her attention and jolted her awake. With the bedroom door open , I turned on my kid radarand I was straining to hear any sounds that my children might make. I heard disturbing noises. Up I got, slowly and carefully, not wanting to wake up Katie. I changed her position so  that I could rock her and I made my way to the door and tiptoed to the kitchen . 

My eyes widened in despair as I took in the scene and I whispered as loudly as I could,


What did I see?

The bread box was open, the peanut butter jar lid was off and wiry and three-year old Emily was squatting like a tiny elf up on top of the counter, spreading a thick layer of the stuff on whole-wheat,  stone ground bread. Rachel stood below on the floor,  both arms out stretched with her tiny hands opening and closing frantically. She was starving and could hardly wait to get ahold of real food.  The sound of my voice startled both of them. Emily glanced up briefly and finished  her assignment  even quicker; Rachel glanced over her shoulder and then stuffed the sandwich into her mouth, hardly chewing at all before she swallowed and lunged for another big bite

And me?

I  could not intervene because I did not want a cranky baby on my hands and Katie was not quite ready to lay down.

 Thus, with great strategy and timing, Emily and Rachel  pulled off “Mission Impossible”.

I phoned my doctor’s wonderful nurse, after this disaster bewailing my misfortune and this major set back in my plan of attack on intestinal bugs. Olga  laughed,

” You my dear, don’t seem to stand a chance.”

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