iBeth

Best Yogurt Ever

The CSPI Nutrition Action Healthletter, a newsletter I've subscribed to for at least 20 years, has been recommending Fage nonfat Greek-style yogurt. "You'll never believe it's nonfat," they promise. But I haven't been able to find Fage yogurt in Orlando.

So you can imagine my delight when I learned that near our Chicago hotel is a Trader Joe's (which they also don't have in Orlando), and Trader Joe's carries Fage yogurt! I tried some, and CSPI was RIGHT. It was the best yogurt I have ever tasted. Ever in my whole life. WAY better than the limp, runny nonfat yogurts I've been eating. This yogurt was delicious plain, but mixed with honey (conveniently included in the package) it was absolutely divine. Seriously, one taste and I thought I was just going to pass out from happiness. I truly could not believe it was nonfat.

Then I read the label more closely. I'd accidentally purchased the full fat version. AARGH. Well, that means I have an excuse to go back to Trader Joe's, not that I need one.

(sorry for the lack of links in this post--I'm using a powerbook and the little link button doesn't show up on this computer. I don't know what's up with that, but I'm too tired to look up the danged href html code right now.)

We had a terrific day at Navy Pier with Grandma Sally. More later.

"Credit Card" has a new meaning

Most of the jokes my kids tell are the same jokes I remember from elementary school (you know, the "orange you glad I didn't say banana" jokes). But lately they have been giggling about something new. Nowadays, when you see someone's butt crack, you are supposed to holler, "Credit card!" I actually think that's kinda funny, but I have been trying not to let on, since we have enough butt-themed conversations in our family already.

In fact, tonight at Pizzeria Due's (the kids' first Chicago-style pizza--and they didn't like it *sigh*), Amelia embarked on yet another such conversation.

"DADDY," she said, in her habitual VERY LOUD voice, "YOU KNOW SOMETHING FUNNY? WHEN YOU YELL 'CREDIT CARD' THAT MEANS YOU WANT TO SLIDE IT IN SOMEONE'S BUTT CRACK."

"Amelia," I reminded her. "You know those words are not appropriate for a restaurant."

"SORRY," she said, then corrected her mistake. "DADDY, WHEN YOU YELL 'CREDIT CARD' THAT MEANS YOU WANT TO SLIDE IT IN SOMEONE'S *BOTTOM* CRACK."

Amelia and the big clock

We're here in Chicago--the girls' first visit--and we have a spectacular view from our 17th story hotel room. In fact, Amelia just came running over to her sister, saying, "Emma! Emma! I just saw Big Ben!"

We laughed, and she was embarrassed, but we told her she should feel proud. How many five-year-olds would know enough to make that mistake?

Now she knows that it's the Wrigley Building, but she prefers to call it the "Wrinkly Building."

Eating Dinner at a Noisy Restaurant

Emma was happily eating her "cherries jubilee" ice cream sundae with an extra cherry on top supplied by her grandma.  (I'd given my cherry to Amelia.)

Emma (to me): You know, most kids don't like cherries.

Me: Really?  That's too bad.  Cherries taste good.

Emma (giggles): Yeah.

Grandma (sitting on the other side of Emma) :  What?  You don't like the cherry I gave you?

Emma: *I* like cherries, but most kids don't.

Grandma: Oh, I see.

Grandpa (sitting next to Grandma): What was that?  Kids don't like what?

Grandma (to Grandpa): Cherries, Dear.  Some kids don't like *cherries.*

Grandpa: Oh, kids don't like *cherries.*  I see.

Daddy (sitting next to Grandpa):  What?  That's not true.  Emma likes cherries.

I intervened before Amelia could chime in with some comment like "Daddy, why do you think I don't like cherries?" but now I wish that I had just let this conversation go on.  Who  knows where we would have ended up? 

That "telephone" game should really be called, "Family dinner in a noisy restaurant."

Kids Know What To Say

Much as I'd like to be the kind of mom who mildly says, "Oops! We'd better wipe that up," when my child spills, it turns out that I'm really the kind of mom who yelps, "AMELIA!  You SPILLED!  You need to BE MORE CAREFUL!" before I remember that she is only 5 and it's no big deal anyway.  *sigh*

This morning after my needlessly upset reaction,  Amelia began to cry,  and I tried to comfort her, hugging her and murmuring.  "It's ok.  I know it was an accident.  We cleaned it up.  I am not mad at you. I'm sorry I yelled," etc.  None of that did the trick. 

Then Emma said, "You know what?  I thought Mommy was going to say, You spilled my diarrhea!"  Both girls burst into gales of laughter.  "What if someone really spilled diarrhea?  Eew!"  "What if someone spilled diarrhea on the bananas?  Eew!"  "What if someone spilled diarrhea on their homework and then turned it in?  Eew!"  General hilarity ensued and the hurt feelings were forgotten.

Just goes to show that the breakfast table CAN be a good place for disgusting kid talk.