Sharing Isn't Always Easy - For Mom

Friday, the girls and I were running errands most of the afternoon.  Although they had eaten lunch, I had not.  This tends to happen on my days off because with both of them sitting at the table for a meal, I can actually clean the kitchen, fold clothes or straighten the playroom.  In any event, I decided I just wanted some McDonald’s fries to hold myself over until dinner. 

That’s right.  Don’t judge me.

We stopped at a McDonald’s in the same parking lot as the children’s bookstore which was our next stop.  When I pulled up to the drivethru window, the employee asked me to pull forward.  “One more minute,” she said. 

Jackpot.  Fresh fries. 

A kid ran them out to the car a few seconds later and I pulled into a spot in front of the bookstore to inhale them. 

“Where are MY fries?” came a voice from the backseat.

“Do you want one?”

Obviously she wanted one, but just asking the question afforded me another small handful. 

“Yep.”

I turned around and handed Stella a single fry.   

Although Claire is still rear facing in her car seat, I could tell she saw this exchange when her little hand reached out for the one her sister was eating.  I dusted the salt off another one -  because I am sure that made it more healthy - and handed it to Claire.

“More please.” 

I turned around and gave Stella another.  Claire’s hand attempted to intercept it.  I dusted off one more and placed it in her greasy little fingers. 

“I want the bag,” said Stella. 

Whoa, seriously?  The bag? “Stella, Mama is starving.”

“I’m starving too.”  This was not true.  She had just polished off a grilled cheese, peaches and a yogurt at lunch. 

“Dahhhh….” echoed Claire.  Lord, not her too.

I pulled out the fry box, put a few in the bag and handed it back to Stella.  “Save some for Claire,” I said. 

Now, I know what you are thinking.  I told my two year old to save some, while I was hoarding what remained of mine in the front seat.  But, they didn’t need to eat that many.  They weren’t good for them…

“What Mama?” Ah ha, I recongized this stall tactic.

Chewing, I turned around.  “I said, save some for Claire.” 

Stella looked in the bag.  “Mama, there are a few left for me, but there are no more for Claire.” 

I laughed out loud. 

When I came around the back to let her out of her car seat, Stella had apparently reasoned that she could sacrifice one more – and she pulled out the smallest, crispiest fry she could find.  “Here you go Claire,” she said, reaching to hand it to her.

Babbling away, Claire put it in her mouth and smiled.  She was happy for any of our scraps.

Stella and I exchanged a look. Soon enough she’ll be on to us.  Then what?