Jitterbug

Four-year-olds shouldn't have chocolate chip cookies and Coke for lunch. I know that. But, despite my car looking like the aftermath of a large dinner party, with all the dishes left from kids eating on the go, there was no other viable snack material in the car. (Just kidding. My car looks just like Amanda's. It's immaculate at all times.) Xanthe has been waiting roughly 167 hours for ballet today, and there was, for one reason or another, no time to get food. So she polished off the last two thirds of my large Coke and broke open a neighbor gift full of cookies. Now one of my non-blogging neighbors won't get a Christmas gift. So if you're a lurker, you'd better come out of hiding or it could be you.

I paid the price for my gastronomic shortcut at the grocery store after Xanthe's ballet class. Have you ever shopped with a human ping-pong ball? She followed me around the store, jumping up and down like she was on an invisible pogo stick, shouting, "I HAVE TO GO TO DUH BAFFROOM!!" Of course, she had her leotard on and everything. With swimsuits, we sometimes opt for the bathroom trick called "The pullover," but it doesn't work with tights. Everything has to come off. The worst part, as anyone who was at Smith's today can tell you, Xanthe has recently learned The Hokey Pokey and LOVES to sing. For her, accuracy definitely takes a back seat to volume.

I was so frazzled by the time I got home, I cracked an egg into the sink instead of into the cookie dough I was making. Then I threw the shell into the dough. My neighbors might actually be better off without my "neighbor gifts." If you get one, just remember: it's not because I don't like you. It's just that I can't let Xanthe have any more sugar. These cookies have to go. And do you want the rest of my large Coke?