Friday, March 24, 2006

A spheno-palantine ganglion spasm of epic proportions


Today, I went out to lunch with some friends from work.
We went to the new chinese buffet place, which incidentally is FANTASTIC.

I, of course, had to bring Elizabeth and Dylan.

About halfway through the meal, Dylan decided he had to eat NOW! So, I stopped eating and fed him. Thank goodness it was a buffet and I could later abandon my cold rice and chicken for a brand new steaming hot plate of yum.

Maybe five minutes after I start to feed Dylan, Elizabeth decides that she doesn't want anything on her plate, instead, she'd like ice cream. My friend generously offers to get her some ice cream which Elizabeth promptly begins to devour...with her finger.
Two minutes later, she's screaming. Like top of her lungs, contorted face of pain screaming. I'm completely baffled. My tablemates are looking at me like I am "Mother of the Year" as though I've just pinched my child in the nipple to make her scream. For the record, I did not.

The lady at the next table over figured out the problem before I, or anyone else, ever did.

Lady: "She's got a brain freeze."
Me: "Aw, her first brain freeze. (To Elizabeth) See, ice cream is the devil."

The diagnosis was later confirmed when I asked her "Where's your ow-ie?" and she pointed to her head.
Fifty kisses and one long hug later, she had recovered.
She then opted out of the ice cream altogether and switched her attentions to orange jello and french fries, crinkle cut. At a chinese buffet.
Ah, multiculturalism.

2 comments:

Amy said...

That must be why I don't ever remember going out to dinner with anybody other than my parents. Unless it was visiting family. They did not want to subject others to our craziness. Like me hording french fries and not sharing. And my sister sitting with peas in her mouth because she refuses to eat them, but for some strange reason finds this less disgusting than spitting them out.

Jessey said...

One Time...
My husband was living with his aunt and uncle and their gaggle of children (they now have five boys) and Bob did not want to eat his peas so he put them all in his pocket, thinking he was all stealthy and James Bond.
His uncle, of course, saw the whole thing and at the end of the meal gave him one of those good ol' boy pats right on the pocket area, thereby smushing all the peas within into an unidentifiable green goo.
Like Slimer's slime.
Nasty.
I just love it how Uncle Eddie waited until the END of the meal, so that there would be maximum pea-age in the pocket to smush. Gotta love it.