Mon 27 Oct 2008
This weekend, Husband and I took the kids downtown for lunch, and afterwards we ordered them ice cream. As usual, I begged the girl behind the counter to measure out only a fraction of a kiddie cup for each of them, but they still got portions with enough calories to sustain a small village for a week.
The boys ate their fill and gave Husband the remains to hold while they cavorted on the playground. Presently, Minor had to use the bathroom, so I took him to a nearby restaurant. While we were gone, Husband got bored holding two near-empty cups of melting ice cream and threw them in the trash.
When we got back from the bathroom, Minor suddenly remembered his ice cream and demanded it. Upon hearing it was no longer available, Minor whined: “Ah want mah ah-cream!” He escalated to crying — not, mind you, a full-on tantrum, just his normal unhappy-with-the-world fuss. So Husband (I can barely type the words) walked over to the trash can, retrieved the cup, and gave it to him to finish.
The TRASH CAN. In front of about TWENTY WITNESSES. I freaked.
Husband maintains it was no big deal, the cup had landed business-end up, the trash can was almost empty, and it was only in there for a little while anyway. He claims the Internets will back him up.
My take on the situation is a bit more nuanced:
1. BLEAAAAAAGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!
2. Would it have killed Minor to have a goddamn LIMIT set for him? “You can’t eat from the trash” seems like a reasonable boundary that would probably not cripple his self-esteem.
3. BLEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!
What do you think?
October 27th, 2008 at 9:37 pm
Ew. I would vote for numbers 1, 2, and 3, with an emphasis on 3.
Sorry, Husband. This part of the Internets will NOT back you up!
(Also, I hear you on the kid cups. I’m just glad we have a Local Ice Cream Store–seriously, they use the milk from their own cows–that will listen when I make the “just a little” gesture when my daughter is ordering.)
October 27th, 2008 at 10:22 pm
I lean more to the Husband or hygenically challenged argument. I feel it reflects a certain “Intellectual Vigor” as Colin Powell may say.
Having seen a child, with whom I share DNA, lick a public urinal and survive, I now feel strangely empowered.
October 28th, 2008 at 12:35 am
Yeah, I fear that this part of the internet also agrees with you, on all three reasons.
October 28th, 2008 at 7:28 am
For those of you that disagree, and assuming you’re female and attached, may I ask you to check with your significant other?
October 28th, 2008 at 8:15 am
Sorry, Mr. Minor’s Dad, but my husband’s response to this tale was, and I quote, “there’s just something wrong about that.” He did qualify that remark by suggesting that every parent has the right to decide whether to teach their child about the potential of finding nutrition in trash cans, and also noted that it was an effective way of resolving the public meltdown. (Our son was once three years old. We will never forget the terrifying power of a tantrum.) But in essence, we both agree: ew.
October 28th, 2008 at 4:52 pm
My husband said, “That’s not okay,” and made a face.
October 29th, 2008 at 12:29 pm
My husband is ten gazillion times more germaphobic than I am, such that I won’t even tell him this story for fear of it confirming his suspicion that the Internet is full of dangerous and scary people.
Sorry, Husband. But I don’t think it’s THAT big a deal. I mean, not my choice, but whatever. I’m assuming Minor is still alive, and no fungus is growing on his lips. Yet.
October 30th, 2008 at 10:33 pm
We’ve had a similar scenario, but the ice cream in question had gone into Gramps’s stomach, so there was less risk of retrieval (and more risk of tearful accusations all the goddam way home …. “but WHY did Gramps eat my ice cream?”)
I’m going to have to side with Husband on this one, with extra points, even, for doing it in front of witnesses.