Friday, November 28, 2008

The Feast

My favorite thing ALL YEAR is to wear my pjs and watch the Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade with my children. It is something I look forward to for an entire year. Something that means a lot to me, maybe because I grew up in NY and remember watching it with MY parents and grandparents.

Demon Baby was having NONE of it. He screamed and whined through the entire parade until I was ready to make a pitcher of Bloody Marys.

While I cooked (well, my mom did most of it, but I cleaned and set the table), he continued to whine and scream and otherwise wear on everyone's nerves.

Then Demon Baby attended the Thanksgiving feast naked. After persuading him into sweatpants (but no underwear and no shirt), he refused to eat and pretty much disrupted the entire family meal until I was ready to pour HIM a gimlet if he would just settle down and be quiet.

He wanted his pie first.

And then he wanted whipped cream. But sucked off the can and not ON his pie.

He wanted gingerale--mixed with Diet Coke because it makes the ices cubes look sort of amber-orange.

He didn't want to say grace.

I think he's giving my parents (living with me until sometime in January) an ulcer. Seventy-five-year-old men should not be subjected to demons. It's harmful to their health.

And so when it came time for me to say what I was grateful for before dinner, I was hard-pressed to come up with something beyond a mumbled "health and children."

And then . . . this morning, Demon Baby climbed into my bed. Naked, he curled up against me and hugged my arm and told me I was wonderful. He gazed up and me and said, "Touch your arm here."

"Where?"

"Right here," he pointed to my upper arm where he usually rests his head when he's curled up with me.

"Why?"

"Because it is the softest spot in the whole world."

And suddenly I knew why I was grateful beyond measure.

9 comments:

spyscribbler said...

Awwww, yeah. There's not much that can beat a moment like that.

Suzanne Perazzini said...

I suspect your little Demon Baby is having a problem sharing you with your parents. He needs to be the center of your Universe and doesn't realize he is no matter who comes to stay.

Erica Orloff said...

Hi Spy:
Thank GOD for those moments because otherwise, I would lose what little sanity I have left!!!!
E

Erica Orloff said...

Suzanne:
He hates sharing me with the computer. With my other kids, etc. And because I did have him late in life, I am a busier person than I was as a mother in my 20s. So I try to give him my intense focus . . . but it's a difficult balancing act, for sure.
E

laughingwolf said...

from holy terror to holy angel, just like that ;)

Erica Orloff said...

laughing wolf:
Exactly. The magic of a demon.
E

Melanie Avila said...

Awwwwwww.

Robin said...

I think my kids have a psychic thing where they sense when their lives will soon end (by my hand), so they quickly do something cute and wonderful. Sounds like Demon Baby shares that special power.

Erica Orloff said...

Robin:
Precisely!!! :-)

Yesterday, they were ALL aware I was going to eat my young unless they settled down.
E