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Posts Tagged ‘hysterics’

fizzy lifting drinks

When Andy went to pick up Jonah from after-school care today, Jonah was hysterically crying.  The dreaded log book told us he’d done pretty well in camp today, and he did okay at the after-school program too, at first, but then there was a rapid deterioration; the staff told Andy they think Jonah has a headache.

Funny how I was just blogging yesterday about how sometimes I wonder if he’s sick or hurting and can’t tell us.

So when they got home, I gathered Jonah in my arms on the couch for some snuggle time, and immediately he tried to cop a feel (one of his favorite things to attempt; did I nurse him too long?  I didn’t think 15 months was excessive) which I brushed off with a firm no.  “No boobie,” he announced, evidently in agreement, placing his arm instead around my neck.

I decided to distract him with his all-time favorite scene from one of his all-time favorite movies, Willie Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, which we just happen to have recorded on the DVR back around Christmastime.  For some reason Jonah adores when, near the end of the movie, Grandpa Joe gets all up in Mr. Wonka’s grille, challenging him to give over the lifetime supply of chocolate for Charlie, and Mr. Wonka, not to be outdone by an old man who has spent the last 20 years in bed, becomes equally enraged.  Jonah knows (and can recite) this screaming-match of a scene by heart, and usually it makes him laugh hysterically.

Mr. Wonka: You STOLE fizzy lifting drinks!  You bumped into the ceiling, which now has to be washed, and sterilized, so you get NOTHING!  You lose! Good day, sir!

Grandpa Joe: You’re a crook!  You’re a cheat, and a swindler – that’s what you are!  How could you do a thing like this?  Build up a little boy’s hopes and then smash all his dreams to pieces?!!  YOU’RE AN INHUMAN MONSTER!

Mr. Wonka: I SAID GOOD DAY!!

Usually Jonah would say more until I’d rewound & played that scene at least ten times or so…but today it didn’t do the trick at all.

After a few minutes of cuddling and TV, I asked him if his head hurt.  “You need head medicine?”  I said, walking into the kitchen to look for the liquid Children’s Tylenol.  Jonah followed me.  I had just poured myself a cup of water with ice and put it on the kitchen counter, when he walked over and picked it up.

“Head meh-sin?”  he asked.  Before I could answer him he took the water, walked to the sink, leaned his head over, and poured the whole icy cupful on his head.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the poor boo.  He got his head meh-sin (and some Tylenol too) at any rate, and doesn’t seem too much worse for the wear.

As long as he stays away from the fizzy lifting drinks, I think he’ll survive.

P.S.  After I finished this post, I checked the news online. The guy who produced Roots and Willy Wonka died today.  Weird.

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