Sweet Supper
It seems that all fathers have instances in their parenting that can be classified as dumb dad experiences. Mothers, on the other hand, appear to know all the intricacies of parenthood from the day the baby is brought home from the hospital. For example, mothers know that babies must sleep on their sides, if the slightest breeze touches their bare head they will get an earache, and you can never feed them honey.
By the time Jacob, our youngest, was born, I also had a fairly full treasure chest of baby secrets, or so I thought. My wife, Ann, must have believed the same when she decided to spend a day with a friend at a woman’s conferences. I suppose that is where these baby secrets are shared. In any case, Ann felt that I had at least enough knowledge that the kids would be safe with me for a day. So, with cell phone in hand, Ann took off with a friend to learn more about babies or some other secret information that is only trusted to a woman. I was left all alone with four young kids.
I took to the challenge with much gusto. I played games with the kids, kept them all out of danger, and even figured out how to get Jacob to take a nap. By the end of the afternoon, I figured I was on the short list of Dad of the Year nominees. But then the true challenge arrived. In other words, it was supper time. I needed to figure out a quick and nutritious meal with several hungry children clamoring for attention. I quickly ran to the fridge and grabbed a couple of hot dogs and some ketchup. I also located a few chicken nuggets so I took them and found some honey for dipping. Wait, I can’t let baby Jacob get near the chicken nuggets with honey. That is when I realized I had a problem. What can I give Jacob? Perhaps he would like some hot dogs.
I yelled to the kids, “Does Jacob like hot dogs?”
They just looked at me funny and slowly shook their heads. The look on their faces made it clear that this was not the sort of thing that Mom would feed to Jacob.
Maybe he would like the chicken nuggets without the honey. I bet he needs teeth for that though.
“Hey kids, does Jacob have any teeth?”
That question produced pretty much the same response as the hot dog question.
I started scouring the fridge for things that might work. Salad was out of the question, TV dinners probably wouldn’t work, and everything else I could find was either a choking hazard or required teeth. I was getting frustrated and the kids could tell.
I threw up my hands and asked nobody in particular, “What can I feed Jacob?”
“Why don’t you give him rice cereal like Mommy does?” said one of the three watching. I guess wisdom often times does come out of the mouth of babes.
I grabbed the rice cereal box and looked over the directions. It seems like you need to add milk and mix. But is it ok to use cow’s milk or do I need to find a neighbor with a lactating goat? I was in another quandary. I bet that Ann was wise enough to have prepared some rice cereal ahead of time and all I needed to do was find the proper Tupperware container. Since I had already looked through most of them it didn’t take me long to find the most promising substance. It was white and gooey. I gave it a quick taste test, which didn’t help too much since I don’t know what it is supposed to taste like. I showed it to the kids and they were all quite certain that the rice cereal looks just like the stuff in the container when Mom makes it. That was enough confirmation for me.
While the other three kids where eating their chicken nuggets and hot dogs, I shoveled spoonful after spoonful of the delicious rice cereal into Jacob’s hungry mouth. He sure liked the stuff. All the kids were soon finished with the meal and all were satisfied. I quickly cleaned up the dishes, ushered the kids off to bed, and awaited the arrival of my wife, fully aware of my astounding success as a dad.
In a few moments Ann arrived home. I must say that she was appropriately impressed as she recognized the relative order of the house and the lack of kid noises. Realizing that things were in order, Ann quickly went to work as she had to finish up the cinnamon rolls that she made for a potluck the following day. She was looking in the refrigerator for something that she was unable to find.
“Do you have any idea where the icing for the cinnamon rolls went?” she asked me.
“Icing? I don’t remember seeing anything like icing anywhere.” I replied.
“It was right here in the fridge in a blue Tupperware container. It is the same kind of container that is drying in the sink.”
While peering at the drying container in the sink, I recalled the frantic search for rice cereal in the fridge and I realized that the substance Jacob devoured was not rice cereal. I just fed my baby a Tupperware container full of icing. Before I could harness these thoughts and come up with a good explanation, my body language had already betrayed me and Ann’s face darkened. She was too shocked for words but I knew just what to say to calm her down.
Why don’t you sit down while I make some more icing?”