Churro-Eating Sloth

While eating dinner out at a Mexican restaurant yesterday, Sabrina makes the comment that she feels like her eating has not been all that healthy lately. Maybe she shouldn't have had that third Twinkie at snack time. Perhaps she should institute a healthy-eating month, you know, no junk food, more fruits and veggies. David, never one to say no to challenge, is all over the idea and even ups the ante.

D: Why don't we all make it a family healthy-eating month challenge?

Me: With a chart and stickers?

D: Yes, you can have stickers if you want. And then those of us who are successful can earn a prize.

S: Yeah, like a book.

Rose: Or a new stuffed animal.

D: Or if we all make it . . . we could go to Disneyland!

Kids: Yay!!!!

Me: A book is good, don't you think? A little more in line with what we're trying to accomplish here?

Kids: Disneyland! Disneyland! Disneyland!

S: And, Dad, maybe when we go, could you and I be park buddies all by ourselves? We can run around the park and try to hit all the rides in one day. What do you think, Dad? Huh? That'd be fun. Wouldn't it, Dad?

Me: What about me? Isn't this a trip for all of us?

S: You can, you know, eat a churro and stroll around the park with Rose and Calvin.

Me: Excuse me! Do you want to rethink that statement?

S: What?

Calvin: Hey! I want to go with Sabrina and Dad!

D: (Speech impaired by margarita coming out his nose.)

Me: (to David) Did I just hear what I think I heard?

D: Yup. She wants to end healthy-eating month by giving you churros.

Me: She just called me a churro-eating sloth!

D: (Still mopping margarita boogers off his shirt) That too.

Wow. If I wasn't amazingly self-confident, and self-aware, that might have hurt.

Me: But I walked 10 miles a day in France for a week! Up and down hills!

D: And sat down in the middle of a dirt road and refused to move. A "Churros Ahead" sign would have been really helpful there.

Sabrina collapses into a hysterical mess of sobs and snorts. But seeing as I am the one who has just been insulted, I do not feel the need to comfort her. We try to ignore her hair which is splayed over the table and continue to eat, but five minutes later the sobbing is still going on.

Me: Do you think she's crying because she's heartbroken over realizing she insulted her mother? Or do you think she's crying because she suspects she might have jeopardized her chance at a blitzkrieg of Disneyland with you?

Sabrina jumps up howling and runs off to the bathroom, knocking over the creepy old balloon-animal guy on her way.

Me: Definitely the second one.

Waiter: Is everything OK? Can I get you guys some dessert?

Me: Do you have churros?