“Fix it Mom!!!”
Tears, real tears, began to pour from her big, brown eyes onto the cereal bar in her hands. Two pieces in the making, currently held together by a tenuous clump of berry and sugar.
“Honey, I can’t put it back together. But look, if it breaks then you won’t have just one yummy bar, you’ll have two!”
Always, I try the logic first. Almost always, it flops.
“Put it back together, Mom!!!”
The whole ordeal, real tears over a broken cereal bar, would have been hilarious if it hadn’t been just so serious.
Because the truth is, of all of the woes brought to me in a single day, this is the one that deserves my complete attention and most sincere attempts at creativity.
“To put that bar back together, I would have to use gllllluuuuue. And if I put glue on your yummy bar you would say bllllleeeecch! I don’t want to eat gllluuueee! Nobody wants to eat glllluuuuueee!”
If only you could have heard my voice. Some of my best work there in those overly emphasized words.
Tears halted in their paths. Her face softened.
And so I went on.
“OR! To put that bar back together, I could use taaape. And if I put tape on your yummy bar you would say bllllleeeecch! I don’t want to eat taaape! Nobody wants to eat taaape!”
A giggle escaped.
I continued, talking about as many adhesive properties as I could think of.
Giggles turned to laughter.
Laughter turned to… eating a cereal bar. In pieces. And even giving me a bite.