Jocie's Dinner

Favorable weather blessed the first half of the weekend, and doused the “maternal” portion with a much needed helping of ill timed rain. As will be a commonplace event for the next six months, all of our immediate neighbors gathered together in the back yards and shared in a community dinner and subsequent evening. A dozen or so young children and their respective parents mingled through a vast chorus of food contributions there were brought in a “pot luck” style meal.

Our littlest daughter, Jocie, started off the fun during hor derves by walking from one adult to another and tipping each handheld plate towards her, examining the contents of each, and picking from the options that best fit her pallet at that moment. By the time each victim realized the action that had just taken place, Jocie was already moving on to the next plate and repeating the same action, each time shooting up a small and judgmental look that suggested either “oh, that was a good selection, I like you” or “wow, you didn’t think to get me anything? Harump!” Most of Jocie’s decision making criteria were based around dairy based options, specifically cheese with an occasional snatching of fruit or a non-salsa marinated corn chip.

Attempting to avert her appetite once the main meal was served, both her mother and I crafted a first, second, and even third plates of food for the little girl to choose from. Each time, she would eat most of the options, but become frustrated with having to be tethered to a specific seat at a table and opt for a “walk and eat” approach instead as she would find her way back towards either the adults or the food line.

Eventually the other children at the table left to run and play in the many games that each clique was partaking in (“swinging” for the boys, “dress up” for the girls, etc). This left a large number of now unlinked partially filled plates at Jocie’s disposal… and partake she did.

I became aware of the severity of the dietary corruption that the little one was taking part in when she passed me carrying a rather large piece of Colby cheese (something that neither Jenny nor I had given her) only to watch her then shove the whole length of it into her mouth while fighting a very visible gag reflex as her eyes spotted the next unsuspecting plate.

Trying to assuage the now endless possibilities in the immediate area, we removed all vacant plates, save for the one that her brother had just left as he ran inside for his habitual mid-dinner bathroom break. We were made aware of his return by his loud protests that Jocie had eaten most of his hot dog and a good chunk of what would most likely be the girls fourth chocolate chip cookie as she helped him vacate his plate of all “Jocie Approved” edibles.

In relative terms, were I to have eaten the mass quantities of food intake that this little child had, I should think I would find myself either being wheel barrowed into my house by my neighbors or riding in the back of an ambulance on the way to the hospital to have my stomach reattached to my body.

But not Jocie… no, like all Pike children before her, the excessive amounts of food only serve to further inflate her post dining energy levels and allowed her to spend the next two hours running the “roost” of the backyard jungle in joyous celebration. An equation has formed in my mind for our children that can only be explained when compared to explosive black powder: 1 oz food = 1 oz black powder of explosive child based energy.

Eventually the night found her tired at a somewhat acceptable time (say, 8:30 pm) and her mother rusher her to bed (the following day being Mother’s Day and falling into my realm of child care responsibilities giving her a much needed respite) only to wake her half hung over father at 7:00am the next morning.

jp