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Fruit Strips and Toast

At four-thirty this morning my little boy’s world fell a part.

I rolled from our bed at the sound of sobbing and found him still on his bottom bunk, eyes shut, yelling, “NO MORE!”

I crawled in beside him. “No more what, honey?” I soothed.  “Tell mommy.” 

His whole body sobbed.

I tried again. “What it is, honey?  Mommy’s here.”

At which time he wailed, “You told me there were NO MORE fruit strips.”

Fruit strips?  My mind was out of focus.

This was about fruit strips?

I reassured my sleeping son that there were plenty of fruit strips.  Plenty.

Then I held him, both our heads on his pillow.

He cried again minutes later.  More worry.  “That boy ate my toast,” he wimpered.

Only I smiled, pressed my lips to his head and thanked him for sharing.


One Response to “Fruit Strips and Toast”

  1. Carolyn Moore says:

    How cute. There used to be a program many years ago, “Kids say the darndest things”. Maybe you should write a book, “Kids dream the darndest things”.

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