For fear of going fully insane and possibly cannibalizing each other after weeks of not leaving the house, constant togetherness, and running out of groceries, I took the kids out to lunch at Panera today.
Shout out to the counter guy for pointing out that we must have a sweet tooth--it's exactly what someone who just ordered their body weight in pastries wants announced to the long line behind them. "Clap, clap, clap", as Big Kid would say, since he is too worn down to actually clap this week.
I ordered soup in a bread bowl and apparently it was the first time little kid had seen such a thing. His mind was blown when they set it in front of me.
"That looks like a bowl made out of bread! With soup in it!" He said with wonder and delight.
"That is exactly what it is!"
"It's soup in a bowl made of bread? That's--crazy. Is that piece of bread there the top?"
"You know what would be awesome? To get a whole bunch of them, put the tops back on, and throw them at people."
In hindsight, I recognize that my first reaction should have been--what? Disappointment? Concern that this was his first thought upon introduction of a bread bowl? I don't know, because my initial reaction was, "That is freaking brilliant, how have I never thought of that?"
Can you even imagine how much fun it would be to throw a bread bomb full of soup at someone? I mean, I know it's wrong, I completely understand that--but it's also innovative and greatly appealing.
Don't worry, I told him not to do it.
But I did do the math on how much a soup bombing would cost and who may be a good candidate for one.
Despite my good intentions and a nice lunch out, we still had a massive emotional meltdown today. I believe we have had enough of each other. Or at least some of us have had enough of some of the rest of us. And puke, some of us have had e-fucking-nough of puke--both kids also puke up their medicine so I am under great duress here, and I might just throw away half of our laundry because who even cares? Not me. That's who.
But anyway, at one point this afternoon Big Kid screamed, "HE IS SNAPPING TO THE BEAT OF MY SOBS!" and I thought it so beautifully summed up our current circumstances. Poetically angsty. I had to ground them from each other for the rest of the night, but they banded together to defy my ruling about 20 minutes later when I guess it became acceptable to hang out with your "worst enemy on the whole freakin' planet" again.
At this point, it's probably a good thing we don't have soup bombs lying around or I'd have an even bigger mess to clean up.