I just realized at this moment that it is the pain medication to blame for my recent loopiness. And that you should not swallow pills with boiling tea.
Gavin napped for 3 hours and woke up with the urge to boogie. "Dance!" he commanded as he rolled out my yoga mat. We did manic yoga to The Darkness.
"No, Mike, stroganoff is too fatty," I said at dinner time. 20 minutes later we were eating fried chicken fritters at the Chinese restaurant. Well played.
At RSCDS, Gavin's idea of dancing was to grab my hands, yank me forward, and yell "bonk!" while head butting me. Then he turned, did a little jig, skipped in a circle, and stood doing his alarming little impersonation of Michael Flatley; locking and unlocking his knees spasmodically. I examined the box of organic vegan gummy bears we bought at the health food store (boiled corn syrup, oooh, healthy) and read my book, then fell asleep in the car, mouth hanging open.
Onward to Easter! Ready to eat chocolate again. Gavin has gotten the hang of this Lent business. When I reached for his M&Ms at the theater, he pulled them away and said sweetly, "No, mom, you have to wait until Easter. I'll eat them all." Blast.
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