Friday, September 25, 2009

Four out of five doctors agree that Pringle's potato chips will cure most foot problems

Today, Little Miss wanted Pringle's Newfangled Potato Chips to take to school as a snack. ("Ev'ry single Pringle's po-tay-to chip, is a perfect, po-tay-to chip, they're not broken, fresh and crunchy too -- the canister keeps them that way for you") Avoiding the whole "are potato chips, even newfangled ones, an appropriate school snack" debate, I informed Her Nibs that we were in fact out of Pringle's potato chips -- or indeed, any brand of potato chips.

A snit ensued. (This will not surprise my regular readers, I daresay.)

But even the snittiest of snitters must realize that if there are no Pringle's newfangled potato chips in the cupboard, they cannot be taken to school, even if one's mother would allow one to do so.

Suddenly Little Miss was stricken with an amorphous pain. In her, um, foot.

I examined the foot, and there was no splinter, no bruise, no bump, no mark, no redness or swelling, no bug bite, no anything that might conceivably cause foot pain. Yet there she was, hobbling around. This foot had given her no trouble when she leaped out of bed onto it, nor did it seem to cause her any distress when she began stamping it upon realizing there were no potato chips.

This foot pain was so crafty, so Machiavellian, that it sometimes appeared to be in the left foot, then, in a dastardly stroke of deviousness, would cause Little Miss to limp on the right foot. (In Lyme disease, this is known as "migrating joint pain." In childrearing, this is known as "a huge pain.")

Because I am a mother who does not know how to love, I insisted that Little Miss limp down to the bus stop, turning away, in my typical not-knowing-how-to-love manner, from her obvious pain and suffering.

At the bus, she asked what would happen if her foot still hurt when she got back from school, and I told her about the very large needles full of painkillers that most emergency room nurses will inject in one's foot when a patient presents with Amorphous Pringle's Deprivation Syndrome ("APDS").

Little Miss was unmoved, but her twin brother turned white and said "Mommy, I think I'm getting nauseous."

The timely arrival of the bus put an end to our struggle, and the brave patient -- and her nauseated brother -- climbed aboard the bus to face another day of second grade.

P.S. No children were limping or nauseous by the time the bus returned. I cannot, however, vouch for the condition of their mother.

16 comments:

puffthemagicrabbit said...

I love that child! Thanks for the giggle. (Pretty sure you deserve a nice red tonight for that one)

Destiknit said...

Fantastic! I am sorry but I love when Mommies share these stories.

Anonymous said...

It's been 35 years, but the memories of being a not-knowing-how-to-love mother are painfully clear.

This too shall pass?

obscure

Carol said...

We laugh so we do not cry.

Bridget said...

Told ya.

:-)

Geek Knitter said...

Oh dear... perhaps someday you will learn to love your children properly.

:)

anmiryam said...

Yep, you're a good mom; all good mom's are mean, unsympathetic and oblivious to the suffering induced by APDS.

The healing powers of enforced school days are underrated. We proved it in our house earlier this week, a child with a cold (her fever had abated) was shoved out into the cold mean streets of Bryn Mawr this week and returned home in fine fettle that afternoon. Much better than another day on the couch!

jomamma said...

Have you ever tasted a Pringle that has gone past it's expiration date? It'll turn you off Pringles in a heartbeat. Very nasty after taste.

Ali P said...

Do we have an Unloving Mothers' Club? I think we should with red wine and Pringle's being mandatory at all Club meetings.
Or perhaps the much more popular Hated Mommy Of North America Society? I am told almost daily how my I am hated du to my inability to love (AKA insisting in teeth being brushed, clothes being of the clean variety for school wear, and most snacks being a modicum of healthy and nutrition bearing. Oh yes...I am a whole'nother kind o'evil according to my spawn)
HA! My word is "joitheem" which sounds like a slurred "Join The Team" after an especially successful Unloving Mothers' Club meeting!!!

Elizabeth said...

I think my 8 year old and your 7 year old are really the same child, or something. Right down to the Pringles/foot connection! And of course, having the world's most unloving mommy.

Ted said...

Do you think her foot pain would have gone away if you'd told her to walk to the corner store to buy Pringles?

The canister, BTW, is excellent for holding sea shells, should you ever go to a Caribean (sp?)island. I have friends who pack several containers of Pringles in their luggage for that purpose. They eat the chips on the beach and then go hunting for shells.

Of course, the best potato chips in the world are Miss Vickies, whch you can sometimes find in the USA. All flavours are particularly good slightly warmed.

Carol said...

"Miss Vicky" as in Tiny Tim's wife?

Anonymous said...

I'm enjoying watching my children be mean unloving parents to their own children these days! I taught them well and they are implementing the lessons. :) Mums unite!! samm

WillyG said...

Great story. I think I can go settle for some Cheezits. My feet *are* getting sore...

jomamma said...

olo samm, I was such a good UN-loving Mom that my kids had sworn off having kids all together!

well read hostess said...

Finally, that medical mystery is solved for me!

I, too, suffer from APDS!!!