My 9 year old loves meatball subs. Interestingly enough, she does not like meatballs in her pasta, and will avoid them at every opportunity. But place them on a roll, cover them with cheese, and she's one blissfully happy kiddo.
I brought a crock pot of meatballs to the "Celebration of Life" that we had after my sister in law's funeral service last week, and when we were cleaning up, Riley saw the meatballs. They'd been there the entire time, but she had been preoccupied and didn't see the rolls - meatballs alone are invisible, as far as she's concerned.The rolls were on a different table, and so the connection was never made in her mind.
My husband has an older brother. His name is Bob. (I think it's cool that I had an Uncle Bobby and my kids do as well.) Uncle Bob is the only uncle that my kids see routinely, and he's one of their very favorite people - mine too. Riley was helping me to clean, and she asked me if we were going to take the meatballs home. Yup, I said. Could we take some rolls, she wondered? Maybe I'd let her make meatball subs?
Sure, why not.
She sat at the bar area and talked with my brother in law while he cleaned. This kid who didn't speak to hardly anyone until she was, oh, six or so - well, once she decided to talk to UB - that's what my kids call him - he's one of the few people she never shuts up with, and I love it. She asked him -
"Do you like meatball subs?"
Oh, boy, do I, he answered. She decided that, since everyone was coming back to our house, and I was going to make her a meatball sandwich for dinner - well, then, she'd have dinner with her Uncle Bob.
When it came time for me to feed her dinner, she remembered that she wanted a meatball sub, and that she was supposed to eat with Uncle Bob, but he wasn't there. There were many other things that needed attention, and although she waited a while -
Uncle Bob didn't get there in time for dinner, and so she ate without him and went to bed. The next day, though, he called and they arranged to have lunch together. And so my kid, all aflutter, obsessed that, because Mommy was working, how in the world would she be able to make a sandwich for her Uncle Bob?
So she sat on my lap and dictated directions to me. I was her fingers - I typed exactly what she said, but didn't change it one bit.
And so this happened:
And then this happened:
And when UB had his birthday this weekend, we framed both and she gave them to her favorite and best.
And she has a copy for her room.
And I am not embarrassed to say that the entire experience brought tears to my eyes.