Back on October 17th, when Juan got the call from a social services worker about Ty – when Juan then called me at work to get my take– when I said yes and committed to being a father for the duration, I didn’t really know what I was getting myself into. Sure, I knew that my life was about to change but only in a general I’m-going-to-be-a-dad sort of way. I was willing, and as ready as I could be, to share my life with a child In fact, I expected that there was going to be lots of sharing, and I was ok with that.
Really. I was.
That is…until it was time for waffles.
Waffles are, for me, a delicacy. They are a treat to be appreciated and savored. I like to linger over them, taking the time to taste every bite – every drop of syrup and melted butter. I prefer to eat them at a cafe or small restaurant. The atmosphere is more waffle-friendly than big chains, though IHOP (avert your eyes, Juan) will do in a pinch. I can bring my iPod and a book or the newspaper and lose myself in the experience.
And when I say "waffle", I’m not talking about Eggos or Aunt Jemima. Both are good and will serve in a pinch, but they aren’t a replacement for the real deal. The only waffle that really matters is the kind made with a waffle iron. It should be round, take up an entire plate and be full of big, deep squares that hold gobs of butter and syrup.
Until last month, I hadn’t had a waffle since before Ty’s arrival. A couple of weeks ago, one early Saturday morning, I scooped up Ty and headed to a little spot a short drive from home. It was one of those perfect weekend mornings - sunny, cool and quiet. I was looking forward to a moment's rest from our mad mad Saturday mornings, and by the time I got to the cafe's door, my mouth was already watering. I could practically taste the sweet syrup and juicy strawberries.
Once at the counter, I ordered…
“I'd like the waffle with strawberries and maple syrup, please.”
The woman behind the counter, who didn’t look crazy a few seconds before, suddenly seemed more than a little off her rocker.
“And what will your little guy be having? Some of your waffle?”
Umm. Having? Waffle? MY waffle? Surely, she’s kidding. I do not share waffles.
“He’ll be having a blueberry muffin.”
I mean c'mon. A couple of days before The Waffle Trip, Ty shoved grits up his nose and then happily stuck his fingers in his mouth. His palate is not even close to waffle-ready.
I sat down and marveled at the lovely creation, almost afraid to put a knife to it. But, I was hungry and a had to move quickly, before Ty realized that his blueberry muffin and my waffle were not one and the same. Lately, he's been a lot more aware of specific foods and knows when he is not getting exactly the same thing as us. Of course, there are times when he simply doesn't want what we have, at least not totally. Grapes are a perfect example. Ty will suck on and chew a grape until all that's left is the skin, which he promptly lets slip out of his mouth and onto his shirt. I couldn't even stomach the idea that he might mash up a perfectly good piece of waffle and spit it out...or drop it on the floor...or worse yet, get it tangled in his hair. What a waste that would be.
So, intent on enjoying my experience, I strategically positioned the plate away from Ty and kept pieces of blueberry muffin flowing in his direction. I'm learning that redirection and distraction are key to managing a toddler. I'm also learning that toddler's cannot be ignored. As I start to dice up the second quarter of the waffle, I heard Ty grunt something like "mmm...mmmgggg...mmmm". I knew what that mean, but I tried to ignore it.
"More blueberry? Can you say more?
"mmm! mmmmgggggg!!"
"Juice? You want some juicy?"
I knew better. The little booger was after my waffle. My waffle. I tried the blueberry/juice distraction again, but only half-heartedly. I was starting to feel a little self-conscious (and creepy) as I sat hunched over the remaining syrup-soaked bits of waffle. And really, creepy and selfish is not a good look for me...or anyone for that matter.
So I gave in, maybe out of guilt and maybe for appearances sake.
w
I know I've got some learning and living to do when it comes to sharing. I'm thinking if I can get to the point of sharing my waffle, then the sky is the limit.
Chocolate cake is where I draw the line though. He'll have to get his own piece.
--D
