Saturday with the Quads

Every other week, I have my four younger children - whom Mark has dubbed "the Quads" - over for a "sleepover."  I pick them up late Friday afternoon and take them home late Saturday afternoon.  This past Friday was their fourth sleepover, I think, and they are starting to get the hang of it (as am I).  Here they are above at breakfast on Saturday morning.  For those of you who haven't met the Quads, let me introduce them:

Annie

Aaron

Esther

Levi

I admit to spoiling them a bit when they come over when it comes to food that, while not exactly in the "junk" class, could not readily be called "healthy."  So, this past weekend, I made more of an effort to clean up my act.  Instead of Eggos or danishes and Jimmy Dean sausage croissants from Costco, I provided - as a first course - fruit and zucchini muffins from Whole Foods:

If any of you were looking carefully at the lead picture, you may have noticed that the children were also served yogurt and, as a special treat for dessert, a box of sugar cereal - which would definitely not be found on the shelves of Whole Foods.  The children rarely eat cold cereal at home, and only once a year - at Christmas - are they given one of these individual boxes of sugar cereal.  But since I am leaving from several weeks, I decided to give them a treat.  Aaron chose Apple Jacks, Esther Cocoa Puffs and Levi and Annie, Fruit Loops:

But the children would have made their mother proud:  they have been trained to read nutritional labels, and I defy anyone to produce a group of siblings, all under the age of 10, who would sit around the breakfast table and compare notes as to how many grams of sodium, sugar and fat were in their respective boxes of cereal.  

Speaking of nutrition, one of the children's favorite places to eat lunch - up until recently - has been that time-honored haunt of divorced fathers:  McDonalds.  The children used to clamor to eat there at least once a month, especially before we started eating lunches here at the house on Saturdays, where they would eat Chicken Nuggets (so-called) and they play in the Playland. 

That was before pig-goo.  

I was informed in no uncertain terms yesterday morning that they no longer wished to eat at McDonalds because they had been told by more than one source, including a trusted neighbor, that Chicken Nuggets are made from "pig-goo."  That sealed the deal for them.  No more McDonalds.

So, yesterday, since I had to take them up to Bountiful for Esther's soccer game at 12:30, we agreed to go to Carl's Jr. for lunch prior to the game.  Their "Chicken Stars" have not apparently fallen under the same condemnation as Ronald's product, plus the kids like their play area just as much as McDonalds'.

One of the things I like about Carls Jr. is that they bring your food out to you, which gives it more of a semblance - if you stretch it - of a restaurant.    Mind you, there is still the same trauma of trying to get the kids' orders communicated to the person behind the counter.  Fortunately, three of the kids wanted the same thing:  the as-yet-unsuspect Chicken Stars. 

Aaron, however, wanted a cheeseburger with only certain toppings.  I had proceeded to convey this to the cashier, but was stopped by Aaron when I had said that he wanted a "cheese"burger.  "No," Aaron said, "I want a hamburger, with cheese."  Sigh.  Ok.  Then there was the back and forth about what exactly he wanted and didn't want on the burger.

By the time we got to the table, I was just every so slightly stressed and a little tired, so was caught rubbing my eyes with my thumb and forefinger - as I am want to do on occasions like this - whereupon Levi reached over, patted me on the leg and said, "Are you ok, Dad?"

Annie at lunch

It was when they delivered the food that the conversation started getting interesting.  Of course, there was the usual chit-chat that one would expect among kids aged 5-9, such as:  (First child:) "Look how long this French fry is!" (Second child:) "Look how long my French fry is!" (Third child:) "My French fry's the longest!", etc.  

Then there was the discussion of the content of Aaron's soft drink.  Since drinks are self-serve at Carl's, he had - as he came up and whispered in my ear - mixed Dr. Pepper, Diet Coke, Cherry Coke and a couple of others I have forgotten.  (He confided this in me because I had allowed him to order a Pepsi a week or so ago when I had taken him out to eat.) Aaron whispered this, of course, because caffeinated soft drinks are strictly taboo at home; but one of the other kids heard him and didn't waste any time at all in loudly proclaiming, "I'm going to tell mom!"

But what was really interesting was when the conversation turned to some kids who live down the street from the Quads whose parents are also divorced.  I was never particularly fond of these other kids when I lived with the family; they were known potty-mouths, and one never knew what they might say to our kids. 

Well, apparently, one of these kids who is about the same age as Esther and Aaron had told them that her father, who lives out of state, is "a drunk."  Hmmm.  I wonder where she heard that?  But what was really surprising is what Levi (I think it was) said next:  "And she says that you're a drunk, too."  For a split second, I was speechless.  Then I noticed that all four children had serious looks on their faces; they obviously didn't see any humor in this outlandish statement.  Somewhat shocked, I said, "You know that's not true, right?"  "Yes," they said seriously, "we know that's not true."  Hmmm.

By then, the kids had finished their meals and were allowed to go play in the "playground."  If you look carefully at the picture below, you can see Annie on the upper level, mid-picture.

Bless her heart, Annie sometimes struggles.  She's a bright girl, but like her brother Aaron, is a bit goofy.  That's why it was so funny, when it was time to leave, she proceeded to try to exit the playground at the end closest to the door at the extreme left of the photograph, rather than through the entrance (in the middle).  She hadn't notice the mesh coated wiring.  I mean, someone trying to walk through a door never loses its humor, right?

Another instance of Annie's approach to life was captured as we were walking from our car to the soccer field.  The rest of us were carrying our chairs with the strap over our shoulders, as designed.  Annie, however, chose to strap hers over her head:

It was overcast, a bit windy and chilly at Esther's game, which made sitting on the sidelines a bit uncomfortable.

At one point, Levi asked me who the blond kid in the yellow shirt was.  I explained that he was the referee and it was his job to make sure that the teams played by the rules.  His response, and I quote:  "Rules are boring.  I wish they would just cheat."  

Indeed.  I can't remember now whether this choice comment was made before or after he explained to me how deer poop.  (Imagine a kid making a machine gun sound and corresponding gestures with his hands, and you'll get the picture.)

Speaking of potty, on my way taking the kids home that afternoon, we stopped at Smiths Marketplace in Bountiful so that the kids could peruse the toy aisles.  I needed to pick up some milk, so left them to their own devices for a few minutes while I walked to the dairy case, which was probably 30 yards or so away as the crow flies (not that one would do that in Smiths).  I indicate the distance because, on my way back to the toy section, I hadn't gone a third of the way back before I started hearing the unmistakable sounds of a number of whoopy cushions going off - repeatedly.  Somehow, I knew ....

Yep.  I turned a corner, and there were Levi, Aaron and Esther, each happily bouncing up and down on whoopy cushions they had found in the cheap toy aisle, laughing their heads off.  In the old days, I would have spoken sharply to them.  Yesterday, however, I laughed and took a picture of them.

By then, however, I had had second thoughts about the milk and decided I'd be better off stopping later that afternoon at a store close to my house.  So I decided to return the milk to the dairy case (instead of just setting it on a shelf next to the Dora the Explorer dolls).  Leaving the kids alone again, I returned the milk.  But I hadn't even gotten to the dairy case before I heard it:  the unmistakable sound of machine gun fire.  Again, somehow I knew:

Yep.  Thus endeth another Saturday with the Quads.