Saturday we went to Jeannine’s house for a party with a band. That party ranked up there with the KA parties with the bands every Friday night back in college. Who even KNEW I could remember college, it has been so long ago. Anyway, we were there all of two milliseconds before The Baby realized that those buckets full of boxes? Those be JUICE BOXES. My mom looked at me with that questioning look as The Baby reached over and nearly fell into the drinks. She knows I’m a hard ass about juice boxes. Don’t you love the box? “No Sugar Added.” Because the 79 grams of sugar that naturally occurs in apple juice is apparently enough.
I’m going to say this amid eye rolling across the internet. My kids really do get jacked up on sugar. I’m sorry. I hate to say it. It’s like me on coffee. Even decaf and I’m clocking my mandatory daily 25,000 word allotment by 7:30 a.m. So we just try to avoid it. But it was a PARTY! With a BAND! Juice boxes for EVERYONE!
Except he remembered where the bucket was. Every once in a while he would head on over to the bucket and fall in, face first. Someone would dig him out and hand him a juice box. This picture? This was his third. It doesn’t look like much to you, but I’m pretty sure he left actual fingerprints when we pried his hands off. And these two? I said, “Make your mean face.”
That would be about right. And thanks for all your comments on my brand new Mommy Needs a Business blog at Work It, Mom! Even you, Dad. Who has NEVER left a comment on any of my blogs. Thanks for the offer to beat the asshat up. That was a good one.