Doritos, anyone?

[Guest guest]

Friday was a bad bad morning.

Putter woke up very slowly and he wanted ranch doritos for breakfast. We had no

ranch doritos. I asked him if he wanted waffles and he said " yes, " in a sleepy

absent sort of voice as he sat blinking his huge eyes on the couch.

I brought him his morning script with his waffles and I wrote " waffles " in the

blank for what he had for breakfast. Putter looked at the waffles and set them

carefully aside. Then he picked up my pencil and crossed out waffles and wrote

" Doritos. "

Sigh.

The bus arrived. Putter refused to come. I picked him up and he began a really

bad tantrum. I dropped him in the front yard; I simply could not hold him any

longer. The bus driver met me at the door and took Putter from me. So I did

not follow my usual routine of putting on Putter's seatbelt, reading the last

few lines of his morning script, kissing him good-bye and prompting Putter, if

necessary, to say " good-bye. " I thought that was possibly a bad thing.

I knew it was a bad thing when the bus did not go. I watched from my front

window. I had promised to drive Sophie to school and we all knew it would be

very bad if we tried to drive away and Putter saw us from the bus. The bus

remained in front of my house.

After TEN minutes, the phone rang. I was asked to go back on the bus to help

with Putter. I went and sat down by him, dried his tears, read our script,

kissed him on the top of his head and said, " Putter says, 'Good-bye, Mama! " and

Putter shouted at the top of his voice, " HELLO, MAMA, " which made his busmates

shriek with laughter. But I felt that he was calm enough for me to leave.

Sophie and Robbie and I hurried to the car and got in. We opened the garage

door, and, as we were backing out, uh-oh, lo and behold, back came Putter's bus.

Oh, dear. THAT didn't look good.

I stopped backing my car, and turned it off. I went to the bus and got on and

the driver said, " We have a naked boy. "

Not quite. Tearful Put was still wearing underpants and socks. He was too

upset to let me dress him at first, and the bus driver made it clear that she

would prefer I just took Putter and drove him myself.

Oh, yes, dear lady. THAT would send a great message to Putter's Evil Little

Brain. Tantrums get me driven to school by my mother who will undoubtedly stop

and buy me hash browns the way she used to when she drove me to my other school.

I murmured my dissent politely and continued talking to Putter. I promised him

doritos after school, " First school, then doritos, " I said repeatedly. He

calmed down. He let me dress him. I kissed him and left. The bus drove off.

I called Putter's school and suggested that it might be a wise reinforcement to

have doritos available when Putter arrived, if that was at all possible. They

thanked me for the idea.

Then I came into the computer room and wrote the whole story down. The computer

ate the entire story, which naturally I had not saved, leaving nary a crumb. So

irritated that I couldn't even write about it until today.

But the bus driver handed Putter a bag of ranch doritos when he got off that

afternoon and I had a big bag waiting for him at home too.

Salli

[Guest guest]

That sounds like a nightmare morning!! You poor thing!

sue

[Guest guest]

Wow, I am amazed every day how strong you ladies are!! I hope to be so strong!

Doritos, anyone?

Friday was a bad bad morning.

Putter woke up very slowly and he wanted ranch doritos for breakfast. We had

no ranch doritos. I asked him if he wanted waffles and he said " yes, " in a

sleepy absent sort of voice as he sat blinking his huge eyes on the couch.

I brought him his morning script with his waffles and I wrote " waffles " in the

blank for what he had for breakfast. Putter looked at the waffles and set them

carefully aside. Then he picked up my pencil and crossed out waffles and wrote

" Doritos. "

Sigh.

The bus arrived. Putter refused to come. I picked him up and he began a

really bad tantrum. I dropped him in the front yard; I simply could not hold

him any longer. The bus driver met me at the door and took Putter from me. So

I did not follow my usual routine of putting on Putter's seatbelt, reading the

last few lines of his morning script, kissing him good-bye and prompting Putter,

if necessary, to say " good-bye. " I thought that was possibly a bad thing.

I knew it was a bad thing when the bus did not go. I watched from my front

window. I had promised to drive Sophie to school and we all knew it would be

very bad if we tried to drive away and Putter saw us from the bus. The bus

remained in front of my house.

After TEN minutes, the phone rang. I was asked to go back on the bus to help

with Putter. I went and sat down by him, dried his tears, read our script,

kissed him on the top of his head and said, " Putter says, 'Good-bye, Mama! " and

Putter shouted at the top of his voice, " HELLO, MAMA, " which made his busmates

shriek with laughter. But I felt that he was calm enough for me to leave.

Sophie and Robbie and I hurried to the car and got in. We opened the garage

door, and, as we were backing out, uh-oh, lo and behold, back came Putter's bus.

Oh, dear. THAT didn't look good.

I stopped backing my car, and turned it off. I went to the bus and got on and

the driver said, " We have a naked boy. "

Not quite. Tearful Put was still wearing underpants and socks. He was too

upset to let me dress him at first, and the bus driver made it clear that she

would prefer I just took Putter and drove him myself.

Oh, yes, dear lady. THAT would send a great message to Putter's Evil Little

Brain. Tantrums get me driven to school by my mother who will undoubtedly stop

and buy me hash browns the way she used to when she drove me to my other school.

I murmured my dissent politely and continued talking to Putter. I promised him

doritos after school, " First school, then doritos, " I said repeatedly. He

calmed down. He let me dress him. I kissed him and left. The bus drove off.

I called Putter's school and suggested that it might be a wise reinforcement

to have doritos available when Putter arrived, if that was at all possible.

They thanked me for the idea.

Then I came into the computer room and wrote the whole story down. The

computer ate the entire story, which naturally I had not saved, leaving nary a

crumb. So irritated that I couldn't even write about it until today.

But the bus driver handed Putter a bag of ranch doritos when he got off that

afternoon and I had a big bag waiting for him at home too.

Salli

[Guest guest]

That Putter is very sly indeed.

Sissi

[Guest guest]

> Oh, my..what a way to start the day. All for a bag of

> Doritos..poor Putter..and poor Mom...I'm glad he went

> to school via the bus and that he got his Doritos!

>

The driver now has a secret cache of Doritos and other Putter stuff. She

showed me this morning.

Salli