The Great Banana Accident at Wings of Freedom

This weekend was the Wings of Freedom Airshow.   We live relatively close to the airport so we can see and hear most of the show.   We decided to actually go and watch this year.  We also had my cousins daughter K for the day while her mom worked. 

K is a very picky eater. She would not eat anything for breakfast even when Peter offered to get her Mcdonalds for breakfast.  She "tried" some nutter butter cookies and said they were "OK" as she finished them off.   Ahh kids.....what do you do?

During the course of the morning, I decided to take Carter for a ride in the car, in hopes that he would nap before going to the show.  It was abour 10:45 and before I left K came to me and said she was hungry. I asked her what she would like. 

"Mcdonalds." she replied.

"OK......what do you want? I will stop and get you some while I am out." I said. 

"Chicken nuggets, french fries and sprite." she respinded like she had been contemplating asking since Peter returned with his breakfast.

"Ok" I said and left with Carter.

We returned home, Carter asleep and  McDonalds in hand.  K sat down, while Carter slept and I finished getting our bag packed for the airshow.   I decided to pack a couple bananas for the kids to snack on later.  I put them in one of the outer pockets of the diaper bag. 

Carter woke up and it was time to go so we loaded the kids up.  Even though we are literally  live right around the corner from the airport and normally it would take us 10 minutes to get to the location of the show, it took us 30 minutes.   We were able to watch some of it from the car.  K saw a bi-winged plane doing a dashed  smoke line in the sky.

"April that is a broken line!  We learned about it in school." K cried.  She was excited.

We had to park about a mile and a half away from the entrance so, I took the kids and Peter hauled the diaper bag and chairs.  We made it through the entrance and bag check and suddenly Peter stopped just inside the gate.

"What in the world?!" he exclaimed.

In the course of hauling the diaper bag he had inadvertently turned the banana pocket toward him so that while he was walking he was smashing the banana all over his butt. 

I laughed and started pulling smashed banana out of the bag looking for a trash can and  finding some wipes to clean it up as much as I can.   Peter is trying to wipe off the goo as well and Carter is watching the whole episode and checking out everything else going on around him.

I suddenly hear, "Oh no!  What happens if I get hungry?!  What will we do?" coming from K, who is standing there in shock and horror.

"It will be ok.  We can get something if we need to."  I reply.

At this point I have not relized that  by saying these words I have given K an open invitation to request and eat any kind of junk food she desired.  Oops!

When it was all said and done K had eaten nutter butter cookies,  Mcdonalds, nachos (with the majority of the cheese scraped off because she has some milk intolerance), a strawberry smoothie, and a funnel cake with powdered sugar.

Junk.

At least I had good intentions with the banana.

Remembering 9/11

I was in my apartment watching TV  I was not watching a channel that was showing footage of the attack.  My cousin, who was my room-mate at the time, came running in the front door from class.  


"Have you seen what's happening?  Change the channel. We have been attacked! New York." 


I quickly changed the channel, unaware of how serious the situation was.  We both watched in shock as only moments later the second tower was hit.  


"We are going to war."  My cousin said.  He kept saying it. 


We watched in horror as the towers fell. Horror of the footage of the plane that hit the Pentagon. Horror as news came of Flight 93.   


In the moments, days, weeks, following the attack we came together as a nation to show the evil that attacked us that they had not broken us, but made us stronger.   I wish we could be as united as we were that day, every day.   


God bless the families that lost that day.


God bless men and women who serve our cities as firefighters, police and medical personnel.


God bless the men and women in the military services. 


God Bless the United States of America.     

2.5# Burrito

Food is my friend.

I have a really great relationship with food.

In fact I would say I love food. 

It brings me nourishment when my body needs it, joy when I am able to share it with others, and comfort when I am feeling down.

While that last one is not the greatest reason to love food, it is present even though it should not be,  and I do not deny it.

Today we had Q'doba catered to us at work.  Food being brought in is a common occurrence in our office.  The vendors of the amazing cancer fighting drugs like to treat us.......daily.  Today was burritos, taco salads, chips, salsa, and brownies.  

After lunch one of the doctors I work with got onto a scale and then someone handed him one of the burritos. 

He got off and turned around to our expectant faces.

I asked, "How much?"

He responded smiling, "2.5 pounds."

"Oh my lord!"  I exclaimed.  Yes, I had eaten an entire burrito.

I rocked that burrito.

I rocked it to sleep in my belly.

He laughed.

I said "Can you see the guilt on my face?"

He laughed, then said, "Well I had a burrito, a salad, chips and salsa."

It only made me feel a little better. 

I love food. 

 However, I have an issue with portion sizing.  I think most of America does. I blame this on the restaurants who serve ginormous portions to Americans who grew up learning to clear our plate because "there are starving kids in China."  (No joke I was told this at the dinner table, sorry Peter.)   Then our bellies grow accustomed to having that much food when really we only need to eat as much as we can fit into he palm of our hand.

I watched the movie "You again"  the other day. In the movie one of the characters is on a fad diet that you blind-fold yourself and rely on your gut to tell you when you are full rather than your eyes.  The character claimed to have lost almost 10 pounds in a few weeks.  

I wonder if that would work.  I can imagine the incredible mess it would make. 

The point is that I know I need to think more about portion sizing when I am getting my plate.  More times than not my "eye are bigger than my tummy". 

I will now go on a walk.