Sunday, July 10, 2005

A three-popsicle evening

Saturday night. Rachel is outside working on a trellis to hang from our back porch. I'm watching Melissa inside. We give Matthew a popsicle to help him listen to his mother. (Because if he doesn't, we can confiscate the popsicle.)

A few minutes later he comes in. "Posisle! Tids!" (Popsicles! Kids!) Rachel translates that he wants to take some out to share with the neighbor kids who have come out. At this point he's almost done with his own.

I give him a few and he heads out. There's one too many, so Rachel take it. Not for long: Matthew begs it off her as soon as he finishes his. I only find this out later.

Five minutes and he's back inside. "Posisle! Mama!" Sure, Rachel deserves one too. I hand him a blue one and he heads out again.

He never did give the blue one to his mom. I wonder: was this premeditated, or was the temptation of a popsicle in his hand just too much to resist?

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