Minutia

Last night as I dug through the wall of totes in our linen closet in search of Neosporin, Satchel eyed an old toothbrush of his with a Hot Wheel on it. "Can I have my Hot Wheel toothbrush?" he asked excitedly.

"Not now!" I snapped. "I have to find the Neosporin!" (Jiro scratched his tummy on a cactus while reaching for the DVD remote control on the mantel.)

This morning as soon as Satchel woke up, he requested his Hot Wheel toothbrush. Warren obliged. While doing so, Jiro spotted an old electric Elmo toothbrush buried in the tote. "I want that one!" he said. Again, Warren obliged.

Don't ask me why we save old toothbrushes.

Satchel and Jiro sat on the bed playing with their toothbrushes as if they were the best things ever while the clocked ticked away. Every morning it is a race to see if we can get everyone dressed and fed and out the door in weather appropriate attire by 8:00am.

When I could take it no longer, I barked, "Satchel, stop playing with that toothbrush and GET DRESSED!"

"I am" he whined.

"You don't see me and your dad sitting around playing with our toothbrushes do you?" I said incredulously.

"Yeah," Warren piped in. Then he added, "Maybe I should get an archaeology toothbrush!"

I laughed and said, "Yeah, I'm going to get a community relations toothbrush!"

Now Satchel was laughing too. Warren said, "I'm going to get a toothbrush with boobs on it."

"Ew! Boobs!" Satchel said.

As much as I was enjoying this ridiculous moment, I was still conscious of the clock. "SATCHEL.GET.DRESSED!!"

***

After dinner, my mom and I took the monkeys to the ice cream store for a treat. Jiro has thankfully stopped running in the door and stopping at the first window to impulsively choose the blue "Wild and Reckless." Now he carefully examines each flavor before wisely selecting the French Vanilla at the very end of the line. Satchel investigates all of the flavors too and usually ends up with something chocolatey. Tonight was no exception. He requested chocolate fudge.

Jiro likes to use a little taster spoon. He got his cone and spoon first and sat down at a table to get started. By the time I got there, he was ready to tear the paper off the bottom of his cone and start licking. Every once in awhile my mom would rotate his cone a bit so he wouldn't end up with a landslide.

Satchel didn't waste anytime with a spoon. He voraciously licked his cone, getting more on his face than in his mouth. "It's a race," he kept saying. Luckily he eats ice cream about as fast as he gets dressed, so I had no real concern over him getting a stomache ache or an ice cream headache or anything like that.

My mom and I sat and watched the monkeys as they methodically ate their kiddie cones. Each lick seemed purposeful and it was clear that they were determined to enjoy every single drop. Ice cream covered their upper lips, noses, chins, fingers, and clothes, but I didn't care. With nowhere to go and no clock ticking in my head, I relaxed and enjoyed watching them enjoy themselves.

It was the most fun I had all day.