Thursday, April 6, 2017

Oh, For The Love of Egg Sandwiches

Today was an early release school day for my elementary kids, so we decided to go to Sky Zone (Evan's choice). The last time we went, it ended terribly, but if he was ready for another try then so was I. He didn't want to invite a friend, but had a great time jumping with me tagging along; it was a great success.

Evan also needed a haircut, so we had planned ahead of time to get that done after Sky Zone. I was ready to cancel this at a moment's notice because I don't think I've ever successfully navigated more than one activity in a single outing (with the exception of getting ice cream, and even then more times than not, Evan is in the car while I grab whatever he has requested). But, don't you know, he managed a haircut too.

In fact, I was so impressed with how well our afternoon had gone that I had the thought that I should blog about it; it was, after all, a huge accomplishment to go right from school to lunch, to Sky Zone, to a short car wait while his sister shopped with a friend at the Dollar Tree, to a haircut (in pouring rain and subsequent wet pants).

And, of course, then the shit hit the fan.


It started with Evan smelling a restaurant outside of Snip-Its that reminded him of egg sandwiches. Then he wanted an egg sandwich. An egg sandwich with bacon. On bread. I can take you to Dunkin' Donuts, I told him, but I think they serve it on an english muffin.


I explained that they don't use bread at Dunkin Donuts, but he could probably get it on a croissant.


On bread.

Can I make it at home? I just don't have bacon. NO
I can stop and buy bacon? NO


So, at this point, he is intermittently screaming and hitting the car window. Thank goodness Shayna's friend has seen this before (it's always tough for me to have the girl's friends in the car during a tantrum; it's hard for me to process so I can only imagine what they think, though this one friend has been around a long time, so she's seen and heard a lot).

He ended up falling asleep in the car for about 2 minutes, but as soon as we got home and he woke up, the tantrum continued. He destroyed his room and wailed as if something actually bad had happened, crying for an egg sandwich.

The first thing I did was warm up some coffee. Eventually, I went to him where I learned two things:
1. Camden, Maine and Camden are two different places. Camden actually means Farmington.
     - okay, whatever, I said to myself., that is SO not the point right now.
And, here is the kicker....
2. He's never even had an egg sandwich before!!! He has some picture in his mind of an egg sandwich in a restaurant in Camden, which is actually Farmington!

THIS IS SO IRRATIONAL! What messed up nerve signal is making him want an egg sandwich that he's never had, 4 hours away in Maine?!

Deep breath....
Evan is fine now; he had dinner and is playing his imagination (after I put his bed back together, that is). He may be fine, but I am not. I sometimes have a hard time letting these episodes go, though writing this all out helps. Our morning, by the way, was bad too because he got mad at me after I sternly told him it wasn't funny or nice to fart in my face.

O.k., now I'm laughing. It actually IS a little a bit funny (and don't judge - I was trying not to laugh when he was screaming for an egg sandwich from Camden). Seriously, this is a day in the life...

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