On Tuesday, he ate …
Whatever the reason, he's been bent on living out the book of late, except for the early pages when the caterpillar happily munches through strawberries, plums, oranges, etc. Big Guy will do that only to meet the daily quota that allows him to eat junk.
Instead he's focused on the middle of the story, where the caterpillar goes on a bender of cakes, pies and pickles that leads to a stomach ache come Sunday.
- On Monday, he ate six hot dogs at a county fair. Thank heaven a civic group was selling them for $1. If I'm going to pay the vendor price of $3 each, I'd demand a steak on the side.
- On Tuesday, he ate three quarters of a large pizza.
- On Wednesday, he ate all of a half gallon of ice cream except for the scant serving Boots had.
A 21-ounce box of cereal and a gallon of milk disappeared in less than 48 hours recently, though Boots had a slight hand in that. I think Big Guy allowed him two bowls.
Have I mentioned that Big Guy is only 4-2, and with a flat belly. All that food could not possibly be going there. I've checked his pockets for signs of oozing cookies and cream, but that's not where he's putting it either. Maybe he's hiding a friend in an upstairs closet. He's not giving it to his brother, because Boots barely eats enough to keep an air fern alive. Luckily, I've been through this phase with Big Guy so I'm remaining calm.
But, oh my aching grocery bill, and it's only beginning. A friend with a teen and a preteen buys eight or nine boxes of cereal at a time. I'm beginning to understand the market for Ramen Noodles, and it's not just starving college students. It's moms with boys who are bottomless pits.
I'm glad, though, that Big Guy is planning for a time when his metabolism slows and he can't devour a carton of ice cream in an hour.
"Mommy, when I grow up I'm going to run a lot so I can eat all the junk I want."
I see marathons in his future.
Copyright 2011 Debra Legg. All rights reserved.