I made pierogies and cabbage last Tuesday for supper. I was chopping up the cabbage and really didn't want the litany of "I don't like this!" and "Do I have to eat cabbage?" so I dressed it in butter, a bit of cheese, and nutmeg and called it "froohah", an exotic hawaiian veg that I hadn't seen at the store in years. "Froohah is quite expensive," I said, "so I hope you enjoy the treat." They were curious, skeptical and ate it up without complaint. Two days later I made spicy sausage stuffed froohah with the remainder of the head. "This is cabbage, isn't it?" Tio, Sherlock that he is, surmised. I confessed that it was and we all laughed at my joke and ate it, although a lot more reluctantly. Doc even asked for seconds of the Hoohoo, but only because he liked the stuffing.
While eating our Hoohoo, I told Doc he had a doctor's appointment the next day and wouldn't be going to his summer camp. Now, saying 'doctor' to a kid is like saying 'spinach' or 'go to bed early'. It puts the kibosh on any good mood, so I needed to play it down or else Doc would never get to sleep that night. I told him Daddy would take him and explain it all in the morning. All fine and good until Kit opened his trap and asked if this was going to be surgery and if he was going to have his ear operated on and if they were going to knock him out. Thanks, m'boy, we needed that. Doc's eyes got wide and I could see the questions start to whirl around his OCD addled little head. Kit was right and the cat was now out of the bag: it was minor ear surgery and they would be putting him under for an hour. I couldn't lie to the boy because he'd learn the truth the next day anyway and that would only confuse him. So I downplayed it.
"I'm not exactly sure. Daddy will explain and tell you all about it first thing in the morning."
Kit, ever the helpmeet, piped up, "will they be putting something in his ear?"
I turned to him and said plainly, "I don't know. Work with me here." which was our code for 'follow my lead while I put one over'.
Kit grinned and winked, understanding now where things stood, and proceeded to exaggerate how wonderful it would be for Doc to have the doctor cut his head open and insert a tube in his ear. "Boy, I wish it was me."
"Will you just shut up!" I said as plainly as I could.
Two days later, while preparing froohah supper number 2, I thought to avoid a similar problem by telling the older boys in advance what I was planning for Doc. That way- no confusion. Yeah, right.
Doc's surgery went well. He had a shunt put in to drain his ear, he had drops for bedtime and he had been brave all day with Buddy at the hospital. But he was overtired and didn't fall asleep until way too late. Then he was up again at dawn and spent a busy day running around at camp. He was asleep on his feet.
"I'm going to tell Doc that 6:30 is really 7:00 so he'll go to bed early without a fuss," I explained separately to our two resident junior genius's. "please go along with it so Doc doesn't feel bad about it and thinks it's his normal time." No prob, I was assured.
As soon as we sat down to supper, they both start spelling words like they were talking in code. The essence of what they spelled out was to ask if Doc was going to bed early, like somehow I hadn't told them this only 10 minutes before.
Now, what 5 year old on Earth doesn't know that when you start spelling words out in front of them that you're talking about them? The further it went on the worse it got until Doc was staring straight at me waiting for an answer.
Realizing their tactical error, we all changed the subject and Doc moved on, too, accepting that his bro's were just being silly. Supper over, dessert on the way, I said, "You better hurry up, Doc, you only have 15 minutes until bed and want to ride your bike first."
"But it's only 6:15," says Tio. Then added, "Oops."
"Good thing I asked for your help, boys. I couldn't have done it without you."
I don't think I'll make Froohah again. Too much brouhaha.
