Molly vs. The Chocolate Monster Rd. 1
My generation groaned when our parents kept embarrassing pictures of us in our youth. My mother broke out my “baby pictures”, when Elizabeth and I visited New Orleans after we were engaged. These are pictures that parents keep because they are so “cute”. I’m not certain that we are all working with same dictionary here. But, as a slave to peer pressure, and to American morays, as it was done to me, so shall it be done to my children. The problem Cassie’s generation will have is with technology. Certainly, by the time she is 12 years old cell phones will be surgically implanted in her ear. She will probably be able to text her friends by whispering into some minute mouthpiece that teachers can not see.
There is an edge to the flaming sword of technology. Not only do we have a few cute pictures to show any significant others, but also we have blogs, and youtube. The stories of embarrassment are no longer a matter of oral tradition to be challenged and refuted at Thanksgiving Day 2024.
So here is my first installment in what I figure might be many stories of Cassie’s childhood. Sunday afternoon was coming to a close; the bitter 80-degree weather of early December in Miami had us running in fear. Elizabeth and I had relaxed a bit in front of the T.V. after Cassie went down for her nap. It was a pretty normal Sunday. The Saints won again going away and the Dolphins were one step closer to securing another losing record. O.K. not everything was normal.
Cassie woke up around 5:30 and we started to discuss what we were eating for dinner. She has about a 10-word vocabulary right now. Some of these words are; Eat, Up, Down, Cat, Zip, Goway (a contraction of Go Away) and every two year olds favorite word: No. Now Cassie seems to use her words as a repetitive chant. Sometimes sounding like a drill sergeant saying “Up” 20 or 30 times in a minute. Other times saying “No” as if in some sort of religious ritual.
Dinner is coming in about 30 minutes, but to stop the “Eat” chant Elizabeth gave her a sugar free fudgesicle. At this point I’ve started cooking. Cassie takes a few bites of the fudgesicle and now looks like the children in those movies. Very little of the fudge has gotten into her mouth. Her cheeks chin, lips, and nose are all covered in chocolate; and miraculously there is still half a Popsicle left. I turn my back for a minute and my daughter starts chasing our 14-year-old cat, Molly, with her chocolate katana. So as I’m trying to understand the situation Cassie is laughing happily swinging her fudge flamberge with wild abandon.
Elizabeth was able to wrangle Cassie in. Molly was quick enough to avoid the swinging melting treat. After a quick wipe down with a wet rag the walls were good as new. This will likely not be the last we see of the Chocolate monster.