Fool me once shame on you … fool me .. ummm I … I … ummm … you can’t fool me that’s the point (George W. Bush paraphrase)
In any given day there are battles to be fought and won in this house. I usually lose the battles, thinking that I shall one day win the war. That for real and for serious though just might not happen.
When I was a kid about the age of Clyde I had a complex. I had trouble drinking milk that was close to the expiration date. I guess I thought it would turn me into a gremlin or something but if we were in 4-5 days of the expiration date … I could not drink it.
This complex of mine got worse when my mother, Bonnie, got angry that I let the milk sit there in the fridge and go past the expiration date. Once she made me drink a glass of milk that was a day past the expiration date. I threw up for hours. I want to vomit right now just thinking about it.
I got used to quietly pouring out the milk when no one was looking so that it seemed like I was drinking it.
Let’s fast forward now a few decades and I introduce to you Clyde.
For reasons that can only be connected to the curse we all give our kids: “I hope you have kids just like you” — Clyde has determined that no matter the size or type of milk in the fridge, it is a 1 serving only. Once he pours his one cup… the rest goes down the drain. I’ve tried everything I can think of to stop this… short of finger amputation.
Gallon?… down the drain.
Lactaid? … down the drain.
It’s painful to witness.
I’ve shed actual tears.
I thought that I’d figured out the work around. Sadly I am simply delusional.
Buy 1 quart at a time, take the bulb out of the fridge, hide the quart behind the water container which is taller than the quart.
That worked for about 3 days. When the kid was out of the kitchen – I poured the milk in clandestine silence and my soul chuckled that I’d finally figured it out.
Then … it happened. Further proof that the kid is just biding his time and fucking with me.
I didn’t need the proof – but I got it anyhow.
I explained to the nurse who helps me with mom – the
M I L K is in the fridge behind the W A T E R.
I spelled it out because the kid was home. The child laughed out loud. He then opened the fridge, went in and got the milk.
This non verbal child who everyone says can’t understand can apparently spell and tell the difference between M I L K and W A T E R and took an obscene delight in showing that he knows and understands and still won’t talk.
So my next move is to ask the bodgea if they will sell me one glass of milk at a time.