The #1 son is recovering from having six teeth ripped out of their sockets. I know this, because his appetite has returned. He is off broth and pudding. Tuesday night, he ate some popcorn shrimp and a baked potato. Wednesday morning, his grandma picked up a sausage biscuit and a hash brown for him. And for lunch, he had Vienna sausages. But that's not how I know he's recovering.
Wednesday at 1:00, I caught him wielding a large Symphony candy bar at the top of the stairs.
I was in the basement avoiding him when a stab of conscience made me wonder whether he had take his penicillin dose after lunch. So I called up to him. And there he was, leaning over the rail, waving the Symphony.
"I'm eating this."
"No, it's your brother's."
"But it's been here since Sunday night! He's not going to eat it."
"It's his. You said you didn't want any when I was making the list. But I know you. So I told The Pony to grab one for you, too. Or you would eat his."
"He brought two of them to my room when you were putting away groceries. I told him I didn't want two. So he put it out here. He meant to give me both of them."
"No. He would have put it in the pantry. It's with his stack of books."
"He's not eating it."
"I ate it."
"You don't need his, too."
"Yes I do."
"What's that in your other hand?"
"An apple pie."
"You just finished lunch, and you're eating an apple pie, and you're arguing about eating a giant Symphony that belongs to your brother?"
"I can't believe you!"
"Let's see the nutritional information...one hundred eighty calories per serving."
"That's probably per square."
"No. It's THREE squares. And there are five servings per bar."
"That's nine hundred calories!"
"So? It's not like I'm eating the whole thing."
"Yes you are."
"Are you going to write about this?"
"What do YOU think?"