Blizzards

Jack was caught being sweet to his sisters while Mitch and I were busy drinking wine cleaning the kitchen after dinner.

A trip to the dentist is always an adventure with us, mostly due to Henry's anxiety and trigger-happy gag reflex. Today was teeth cleaning day for the three youngest, and I like to bribe them with a Blizzard if each and every one of them comes out of the office cavity-free. So far they haven't missed out on their frozen treat, and today was no exception. As a bonus, Henry didn't barf, although he had his gallon ziploc at the ready. Right before they called him in, however, he started shedding crocodile tears about how his best friend was mean to him all the time and he didn't have any real friends. I figured it was dental anxiety, but I pulled him on my lap and listened to his tale of woe while Olivia rolled her eyes and Grace pored over "Cheerleading" magazine. There were no x-rays today, so all three came out with their balloons and new toothbrushes with big smiles on their faces. Well, Olivia didn't have a balloon. She has a little balloon phobia relating to the way they seem to "lunge" at her randomly. Between Henry's clown phobia, Olivia's balloon phobia, and Grace's fear of getting dirt on her outfits, we're a real fun family to hang out with at the county fair.

Anyway, the kids got their Blizzards and Henry was in an extra good mood because I said he didn't have to go back to school. I also said something along the lines of, "I hope you and hisfriendsnamehere work out your problems before the field trip tomorrow".

"What are you talking about?" My little ball of anxiety replied.

"Never mind," I sighed. Heavily.

We took the long, windy, road home along Penn Cove so they could finish their ice cream. Oh, you think you know where this is going, do you?

Alas, no trip to the dentist is complete without at least one child barfing. Midnight Truffle Blizzard.