The Boy is a creature of decided habits, most of which are tinged with more than a little obsessive-compulsive flavor.
There’s candy and The Law of Twos.
He came downstairs the other night with two strawberry Twizzlers in hand. “Gimme one”, I demanded. “I CAN’T”, said the Boy. I understood. It was the Law of Twos. Candy can only be eaten in pairs. If there is an odd one left over, it gets discarded.
The ritual is even more complex for M&Ms. First he pours out a handful, and proceeds to eat them two-by-two, alternating sides of the mouth. If you start on the left, you have to end on the right. Extras are discarded, of course.
But that’s not the crisis. THIS is the crisis:
He packs a lunch every day. In that lunch goes one bologna and cheese sandwich and three drinks.
Now here it is, Sunday night. We’re prepping for the week ahead, and we realize that at some point this weekend, I unknowingly ate the last slice of cheese.
And now the Boy can’t go to work.
Because there’s no cheese.
“I’d LOVE to come into work, BUT MY MOM ATE ALL THE F***ING CHEESE!”
“Maybe you didn’t hear me, THERE’S NO CHEESE!”
We’re trying to convince him that he COULD push the envelope, go a little crazy, live life on the edge, and maybe have a cheese-less bologna sandwich tomorrow.
Wish me luck.