Pizza, Plasma and a Plight

We had a lovely dinner tonight.  And I don't usually describe our dinners as lovely, more like feeding time at the zoo complete with flying food and gnashing teeth.  But tonight consisted of Jay walking through the door at 6:45 with 2 boxes of pizza to 4 ravenously hungry people drooling on the empty paper plates in front of us.  You see, I boycotted cooking dinner for numerous reasons.  And if Jay wasn't going to make it, Papa John's was!  And just to quiet the responsible, nutrition conscious parent inside of me that was slinging guilt mud balls at me for not having anything green or "full of fiber" within a 2 mile radius of our house....I threw in a container of yogurt for the boys to eat.  Guilt assuaged!

While we gobbled up pepperoni, Hawaiian, and cheese slices of heart-attacks-waiting-to-happen (that was the guilt slinger popping back up), we talked of the beach.  (It has been a hard, cold, gray January.)  I talked about how I would go to the very same beach for 2 whole weeks when I was a little girl.  We giggled about Auntie's childhood dreams of opening her own "Carly's Coquina Care" for the thousands of colorful little clams that burrowed in the sand. And about the posh little bed and breakfast for the sand fleas that she opened......in her underpants drawer!  The boys sat riveted when I explained the complicated biological process of why the sand fleas began to stink after their untimely demise....right there amongst her carefully folded days of the week underwear.  (Not my normal dinnertime conversation.  Mind you, these are little boys, there had to be something stinky or otherwise objectionable to hold their attention.)

With crusts tossed on plates, the empty, greasy boxes still in front of us, and not a grumpy face among us, we continued to dream of our vacation to the beach (which is only 141 days away).  I mentioned that it would be so amazing if we spent 2 weeks there instead of just one.  You know, so we could really unwind and make the effort of putting our clothes from the suitcase into the rattan dressers completely worth it! 

Continuing with the dream, I casually (and completely jokingly) said to Jay, "The only way we could afford an extra week would be to sell our plasma.  Do they pay extra for cute little boy plasma?" 

And, of course, Drew was listening and ready to ask questions about whatever word or concept he didn't understand.  (Being his mother often makes me wish I had paid closer attention in school.)  He asked, "What is plasma?" 

Realizing that my degree in musical theater was not going to help me in this particular situation, I referred Drew to his Daddy.  

Jay says, "It is the liquid stuff that your blood floats around in."  (I knew I married this man for a reason!)


Drew: "How do they get it out?"


Me thinking:  this is not the direction I intended this conversation to go.


Jay:  "They stick a big long needle in your arm and they draw it out."


Definitely not the direction I wanted it to go!

Complete silence.


Drew's face falls and he admits, "But I don't want to do that.  It will hurt me really bad."


My completely literal and believing little 6 year old was feeling shame for not wanting to do his part in our fantasy quest for one extra week of sun and sand!  In my moment of levity I had unwittingly heaped a burden upon Drew's boney little shoulders that he just didn't feel he could bear.  (And now, the guilt slinger was throwing 90 mph fast balls in my direction!)

I sat there carefully crafting my reply.  As I started to explain that I was only JOKING, that one week is a perfect length, and that I would never ask him to sell a piece of his DNA so we could frolic a little longer at the beach, Drew cut me off and very seriously proclaimed....

"Well, I think I could give plasma.  

I'm pretty brave.

I didn't cry when I got my shots.

I'm grown up now."

He was oh, so proud of himself for being willing to sacrifice.  And I was oh, so proud of him for wanting to take one for the team! 

I learned several valuable lessons:  1.) Teach Drew to recognize sarcasm and jokes  2.) Be careful what I say  3.) Study up on science 4.) We all need a vacation.  
These pictures from last June will have to do....for now.

 *Notice the sand on Owen's shoulder and the sand bandit making his getaway.

*Auntie toting around the hooligans on her barge.