Living with a two-year-old is a lot like co-habitating with a bipolar Oompa Loompa. There are angry outbursts with shrieking, tears and full body throw downs. The child can be in the throes of a passionate meltdown, and then two seconds later she is laughing and dancing to the Dora the Explorer song.
In the morning, Mr. Snark and I thread carefully. Miss Bear always wakes up in wrong-side-of-the-bed zone. We redress her in footy pajamas even if she needs to be going out the door less than an hour later. We hide her clothing until her mood improves incrementally. We serve her morning glass of milk on a silver platter and back away bowed forward so that the level of our head never rises above hers.
Miss Bear is like that dog on TV that loves bacon. Only, Miss Bear loves bacon more.
When the tantalizing aroma of cooking bacon wafts out of the kitchen, Miss Bear runs to the cabinets and fetches a plate. She holds the white disk aloft and bounces up and down, chanting "Pease, pease, pease!"
This morning The Middle Child happened to wander through the kitchen. He gasped and exclaimed, "Why does The Baby get bacon?"
Mrs. Snark cringed. Egads, caught. If ever there was a Homer Simpson moment, this was it. There simply wasn't any bacon left and my son's bus arrived in a few minutes, so no time to make more. Wheels churned and an improvised explanation popped onto my lips.
"Miss Bear's pediatrician has her on a strict bacon-in-the-morning diet."
Now up until now, my kids have bought some doozies. The Middle Child has continued to believe in Santa Claus thanks to the authority of the NORAD Santa Tracker. He believes that all of his teeth will instantly fall out if he doesn't brush twice a day. He's convinced that The Boy was actually delivered to us by aliens.
He hesitated. I saw the gears turning but the look was on his face—skepticism. He wasn't buying it. Thankfully, a honk came from out front, calling him to school. Saved by the bus.
I kissed his cheek. "I have a good day at school, dear. I'll make you bacon tomorrow morning."
"Okay, bye. I love you too, mom."