We celebrated Lee's Birthday with a family party on Sunday, but his actual birthday was yesterday, Monday. What to do? What to do? It was a big blank day with nothing planned. The big kids were off on spring break, but Benny still had preschool. And since I didn't have anything particularly planned for the day, I decided to send Benny to school. This was not agreeable to him.
He threw himself onto the floor and wept because of the unfairness of life. He wouldn't get dressed. He wouldn't put on his shoes. He wouldn't walk to the car. His siblings couldn't stand the ruckus, and they truly did feel sorry for him.
Rose hastily cut out colorful paper hearts. Then, she had each family member kiss a heart before she slipped them into Benny's jacket pocket. "Now when you're at school," she told him, "you can take out a kiss and remember us." She borrowed this idea from a book called A Pocket Full of Kisses by Angela McAllister. I praised her highly for this idea and tried to ignore the high-pitched pedantic voice she used when explaining this to Benny. I can't stand patronization.
The morning passed with some difficulty. Rose thereafter began looking for treats and attentions in the wake of all the attention and presents Lee was receiving. She wanted a friend over. She wanted me to plan something for her special. She wanted to paint with me. She wanted to Facetime a friend. I allowed her this and thanked the Lord when her little friend reminded Rose how Lee felt when Rose celebrated her own birthday two months prior. Hallelujah, I'm not the sole deliverer of truth to that girl!
In the meantime, Lee practiced some magic tricks from his new magician's set that his cousins gave him. The tricks primarily rely on objects and not slights of hand, which is good for an eleven-year-old. Lee was eager to demonstrate the tricks to his family and even more eager to divulge his secrets the second we were fooled. "This is how I did it!" he'd exclaim with a big smile on his face.
After we picked up Benny from school, I drove the kids over to an Asian shopping center in Buena Park. I figured we'd grab us some dumplings, see the live sea creatures at H-Mart, and give Lee a chance to use his birthday cash at Daiso, a sort of 99¢ store there.
We were the only white people at the Asian noodle restaurant, and I was the only one with children. I felt like a fish in a fish tank being observed by people who may or may not eat me. While there, each child had to use the restroom. Rose wanted to show Lee the bathroom's cool sink. And Benny had to go as well, but not at the same moment as everyone else.
When the food came, the children's hands shot out to grab the best for themselves, and I had to bark them back until we prayed and I distributed the food fairly, or rather, not fairly because Lee got more chicken wings than everyone else. No one, but Benny, wanted the noodles because we discovered tentacles in them. As we exited the restaurant, the cashier hollered something at me. I couldn't understand what she was saying until everyone's eyes were fixated on us and I realized I was supposed to clear our place.
At the seafood counter, they oohed and awed over the crustaceans. They even poked the shrimp's antennae. We found a quart of Rocky Road Häagen-Daz Ice Cream in the frozen food section, and were in the check out line when Lee spontaneously decided he wanted to use his birthday money to buy his siblings a treat. He scanned the candy selection recognizing nothing and eventually snatching some chocolate bars called Melty-Kisses.
Rose and Benny lauded Lee's generosity and they tucked into the chocolate bars with gusto until its taste changed their opinions. It was dark chocolate with orange peel and cassis liqueur. Even I didn't care for the taste. I peered at the children to see how they were taking it and worried that they'd forget Lee's generosity. Had they developed a sense of graciousness yet?
Benny began to cry and beg for water as he stuck out his tongue and grimaced. Rose used the chocolate bar as lipstick. And Lee decided to throw his away. Thankfully, we had the Häagen-Daz to cover the offense. I, however, had no spoon. I began looking into various restaurant windows to see if any had a napkin/condiment bar with plastic utensils. None seemed to, so I gathered my courage to just ask someone. The woman was not happy. She pointed at my take-out leftovers and said, "You did not order food here. You go ask where you get food." But she handed me a spoon none-the-less.
Outside in the sunlight, I spoon fed my three children, certain that any minute the weak plastic spoon would snap in the hard ice-cream. It didn't. And the shopping trip to Daiso took place without incident, unless you count Benny walking square into a pole outside the store and causing the outdoor diners to gasp audibly at the incident. Benny's head erupted in a goose-egg. And both younger children were upset that Lee got to buy things and they didn't. He choose three transformers and a toy AK-47 that tapped and rattled when the trigger was pushed. I quickly put the kibosh on firing that thing in the car and I turned the music up loud all the way home.
Posts
Comments