I Scream, You Scream, Abbie Screams
My life is a monotony of childcare. I sit on the floor feeding twins for 20 minutes, and then spend the next 40 minutes trying to keep both of them awake without being spit up on too much and hoping Abbie doesn’t throw anything at her brothers, or at least nothing too dangerous. Then I change the twins, set them down for their nap, and try to accomplish a few things around the house assuming Abbie doesn’t mind being ignored. Two hours later, after bouncing between cleaning, entertaining Abbie, and reinserting pacifiers, I repeat the process. Sometimes I need to do something to break out of the rut; sometimes I need to go get frozen custard.
Frozen custard is my vice. If you’re not familiar with it, it’s basically triple-delicious ice cream. I believe it’s made with egg yolks so none of those pesky cholesterol-free egg whites interfere with the flavor. I hadn’t had any in several* days, so when I saw today’s Flavor of the Day was chocolate peanut crunch, a medley of three of my favorite ingredients, I loaded the kids and goaded the wife into the car after supper for some sweet frozen indulgence; never mind that it was 30 degrees outside and the nearest restaurant was ten miles from our house.
I rarely take all three kids out of the house simultaneously if I can help it. I believe this is the first time we’ve chosen to take all three kids into a restaurant. We took everybody into a McDonald’s while traveling to and from the grandparents, but when you eat at a McDonald’s on successive days it’s pretty obvious that you’re eating there not from choice, but because you’ve got a car full of hungry pre-verbal children.
I figured frozen custard made a good introduction to restaurant life with the threesome; we pop in, eat a few quick bites, and leave before anyone gets too cranky. Even if someone does get too cranky, chances are we’ll be surrounded by parents also trying to appease their cranky children, so no one will have room to complain. As extra insurance, I timed the trip so we’d feed the twins while eating ice cream. There’s no way a baby could complain through a feeding, unless they choke on their own spittle, which they almost always do, but at least they don’t yet have the lung capacity to complain loudly.
Ellie ordered a sundae, and I ordered a cone. Our plan was to lay the twins across our laps and feed them while shoveling custard into Abbie’s mouth and, if we had time, our own mouths. In hindsight I should have also ordered something in a cup that would have allowed me to set my treat down when I needed a free hand. With one hand permanently attached to Tory’s bottle, I had to lay my cone on a napkin every time Abbie was ready for another spoonful, which was approximately once every .0896 seconds.
The twins tolerated the excursion well. They ate without much complaint or spit-up. Abbie took the stop less well, complaining at first when we took too long to feed her custard, and then complaining when she had to sit still too long while we finished feeding her brothers. I didn’t feel bad about bothering other patrons since three of the four families in the dining area also had small children; the fourth family had my sympathies. I tried appeasing her with the leftover custard, but she insisted on leaving her high chair and shoved it to the side in disgust. She’ll learn to like custard more as she grows. At least, she’s going to have plenty of exposure to it if she accompanies her daddy, so she’d better learn to like it more.
* Four
Frozen custard is my vice. If you’re not familiar with it, it’s basically triple-delicious ice cream. I believe it’s made with egg yolks so none of those pesky cholesterol-free egg whites interfere with the flavor. I hadn’t had any in several* days, so when I saw today’s Flavor of the Day was chocolate peanut crunch, a medley of three of my favorite ingredients, I loaded the kids and goaded the wife into the car after supper for some sweet frozen indulgence; never mind that it was 30 degrees outside and the nearest restaurant was ten miles from our house.
I rarely take all three kids out of the house simultaneously if I can help it. I believe this is the first time we’ve chosen to take all three kids into a restaurant. We took everybody into a McDonald’s while traveling to and from the grandparents, but when you eat at a McDonald’s on successive days it’s pretty obvious that you’re eating there not from choice, but because you’ve got a car full of hungry pre-verbal children.
I figured frozen custard made a good introduction to restaurant life with the threesome; we pop in, eat a few quick bites, and leave before anyone gets too cranky. Even if someone does get too cranky, chances are we’ll be surrounded by parents also trying to appease their cranky children, so no one will have room to complain. As extra insurance, I timed the trip so we’d feed the twins while eating ice cream. There’s no way a baby could complain through a feeding, unless they choke on their own spittle, which they almost always do, but at least they don’t yet have the lung capacity to complain loudly.
Ellie ordered a sundae, and I ordered a cone. Our plan was to lay the twins across our laps and feed them while shoveling custard into Abbie’s mouth and, if we had time, our own mouths. In hindsight I should have also ordered something in a cup that would have allowed me to set my treat down when I needed a free hand. With one hand permanently attached to Tory’s bottle, I had to lay my cone on a napkin every time Abbie was ready for another spoonful, which was approximately once every .0896 seconds.
The twins tolerated the excursion well. They ate without much complaint or spit-up. Abbie took the stop less well, complaining at first when we took too long to feed her custard, and then complaining when she had to sit still too long while we finished feeding her brothers. I didn’t feel bad about bothering other patrons since three of the four families in the dining area also had small children; the fourth family had my sympathies. I tried appeasing her with the leftover custard, but she insisted on leaving her high chair and shoved it to the side in disgust. She’ll learn to like custard more as she grows. At least, she’s going to have plenty of exposure to it if she accompanies her daddy, so she’d better learn to like it more.
* Four
posted by Matt at
10:17 PM
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