I’m not sure how to start this thread; the events transpired when I was half asleep. Still, the astounding tale and the resulting discovery deserve proper mention, so I guess I’ll try the beginning. Friday was a rough day…more rough probably because I was trying to clear up a number of loose ends before a long-weekend vacation. It didn’t seem like a long day to me, but I know it was. At the time, the scent of impending vacation and short-timer syndrome had me oblivious to all of that. I had my mind on Wildwood, NJ…boardwalk capital of the East.
Now Wildwood has always had a special place for me. Was it because I got to spend 2 weeks there every August with my family since I was 4? Was it the allure of the salt-water taffy? Maybe it was just the memories of first bumper-car rides & first roller coasters. Either way, I was Psyched. After work, I was going to drive home, pack the Explorer, grab my wife & my kid and drive through nightmare traffic to reach our hotel/motel by midnight. And true to expectations, we did arrive at midnight and we unpacked everything into the efficiency my wife had booked.
Now, efficiencies are great: they have a 'fridge, a stove, pots, pans, cooking utensils...and you can bring groceries from home to make the bills a little less. And that's what we did...a little of this, a little of that, a Ziploc bag full of that (hey, who's going to bring a COSTCO/ BJ's sized container along on a trip like that?) and you're all set.
So, its past midnight, and we get it all put away. I get my son to his pullout bed and my wife makes him a sippy-cup of Strawberry Milk and he goes to sleep. My son was 4 at the time and while he liked milk, it had to have strawberry Quick in it to be any good. No chocolate, no plain: Strawberry Milk. And if you didn't put enough in, he'd give you a dirty look and say
“Hey! This tastes like Water!!!” (Yes, I can turn milk into water…News & Communion at Eleven)
Now, when I finally was set for bed, I was Really tired. I'd been up since 5. The coffee was making it tough, but I craved sleep like Beau Gest craved water. My wife, of course was out like a light. Slowly, sleep came to me and I was happily dreaming until I heard
“Dadd-y…”
My eyes opened in a half squint in the dark and I heard it again:
“Dadd-y…”
I look to my right and my wife’s as motionless as Mt Rushmore:
“Dadd-y…”
I get up and fumble in the dark over my shoes, through the door and into his room in the dark. “Michael, what’s wrong?”
“Daddy, I need more Strawberry Milk”
Now, I know damn well that nobody was getting any sleep until he got his strawberry milk. But I also knew that if I turned on the lights, his and my chances at sleep in the next hour were shot. So I took the cup out of his hand and stumbled towards the kitchen area. I opened the lid & ran water over the cup and the lid. I opened the ‘fridge for milk (F---, that light’s bright!), filled thee cup , put it down on the counter, and then fumbled through the cabinet for the zip-lock bag with the strawberry Quick. My hand found it, I poured some into the sippy-cup, I replaced the lid, and I shook it to mix it up. Then I walked over to Michael, handed it to him, and told him to go to sleep.
I was in bed when I heard the next line.
“Daddy, this tastes funny.”
My wife, who evidently had been playing possum the whole time, then leaps out of bed, turns on the lights (there goes sleep) and grabs the sippy –cup. “Dear, what did you put in here? It’s Brown….”
Now I’m out of bed and moving to the counter where I’d left the Ziploc bag. It was sealed and on the masking tape was written “Iced Tea Mix”. Now, I knew that my wife would be razzing me about this mistake so I tried to play along with it as best I could. My son was trying to hand me his sippy-cup saying “This tastes Yuckee, Daddy”
“But Michael” I fibbed, “This is a New drink that’s supposed to be Better for you. Its called ‘Milk-Tea’. It’ll make you smarter in school because, when you’re asleep, it makes your brain go ‘Whaaacka- Whaaacka- Whaaacka!!!’
Michael, with his lip trembling, then turned to my wife and said, ““Mommmmeeeee!!! I don’t WANT my brain to go Whaaacka- Whaaacka- Whaaacka!!!”
This was followed very shortly by the angry little 4 year old foot stamping rant:
“Mo-mmmee!!! That’s Not Funny <stamp> ! Stop Laughing!!!”
