Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Mistaking things for other things.

My kids love to lick the beaters.  Who doesn't?  The other night I made brownies for an event and let them lick the chocolatey mess off the beaters.  Then Coen said, "Ooh Mommy, are you making those great mint brownies you make?  Can we lick the frosting beaters too?"
I wasn't going to make mint brownies but spurred on by his compliment and wanting to keep the good times rolling, I made frosting too.  And they licked those beaters.
Once I made guacamole with the blender and when the kids rushed in to ask for the beaters (blissfully thinking I was making some sort of dessert) I handed them over willingly.  They both took big licks of what they thought was green frosting and and immediately Lucy tossed hers into the sink waving her hand dramatically in front of her nose.  "Ugh! Uck! What IS that?!" She nearly screamed.  Coen had pulled his away in shock saying, "That's not frosting! That's avocado!" And then he merely shrugged and went on licking. 

Thinking about the beaters reminded me of two separate times my dad mistook a thing for another thing and was given a shock when he ate said thing and found out it wasn't the thing he thought it was.  Here are those two stories:

Story 1:
My parents went out for sushi with us once and my dad received his vegetarian roll and eyed it up appreciatively. Then he said, "Oh! Avocado!" and plucked up the enormous hunk of wasabi that he was given next to the ginger with his chopsticks and popped it into his mouth before I could say, "No, Dad! Don't!"  Immediately his face turned red and he began sweating profusely before he choked out the words, "That wasn't avocado!"

Story 2:
We went to see my parents play volleyball at one of their indoor games when Coen was about two.  I had a cup of water on the bleachers for Coen and he accidentally knocked it over.  I hastily looked for something to wipe it up with and reached into my parents gym bag for a pair of old-already-worn sweat socks.  I wiped up the water and then wrung it back out into the cup.  Just then, my dad ran over to the sidelines and grabbed the cup of water, downing it as I yelled "No, Dad! Don't!"  He smacked his lips, looking faintly disgusted saying, "That didn't taste right."

At any rate, my dad might be more careful about drinking random cups of water and now he knows what's next to the ginger with his sushi.  My kids now always ask what I'm making before licking a beater that I've handed them. 
We live, we learn, and we try not to mistake things for other things. But when we do, it's pretty funny for the innocent (or not so innocent) onlookers.

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