I have long spoken of Izzy's pickle predilection. Lately I have taken to toting around a quart of them, with chopsticks on hand. Those pickles sure do come in handy for staving off any hunger pangs.
Just don't let one fall off of the stick...as happened to my bedraggled child today, after a long day of visiting Great-Grandpa, visiting his friend M. and then having to walk a long way.
During said walk, Izzy requested a pickle on a stick. I obliged and as we meandered along, the half-eaten pickle fell to the ground. Since we were almost at our destination, I told Izzy to wait and I would replace the pickle then. That was not soon enough. Oh no.
He stopped, dead in his tracks, wailing, "Mama, I want a pickle NOW!" His wails continued the entire three blocks it took us to reach a bench where I could sit down and provide a pickle replacement. In between, onlookers gawked as he cried, "You promised me a pickle now, not when we get to Uncle E's. I'm hungry. I need my pickle now!" His anger reached epic proportions as he angrily poked at my granny cart. I couldn't turn around because, despite his tragic sobs, the hilarity of the pickle tantrum had hit me and I had to stifle my giggles.
When I finally got myself situated on a bench, with rinsed pickle in hand (I couldn't waste that precious fallen pickle, now could I?), I threaded it on to the chopstick and Izzy gobbled it down and immediately requested another. After that, two slices of foccacia. This at six p.m. and he still ate dinner.