Before the waitress could even scribble DDP on her carboned pad, Daughter 2 looked at me with her jaw dropped to her chest and huffed, "MOMMA! I am not a druggie!" Then she proceeded to order herself some water in a very self-righteous tone. I almost felt like I wasn't worthy to be at her table!
After the waitress left and Daughter 2 regained her somewhat easy-going demeanor, I asked, "Why did you tell me you weren't a druggie?"
"'Cause I'm not, Momma!" she said with a snarl in her lip and a huff in her tone.
"I know you're not a druggie," I retorted, resisting the urge to add DUH. "Why'd you tell me you weren't a druggie?"
"Well," she began as if it were the most simple thing she'd ever explained to her very dense momma, "Today at school, our counselor came in and talked to us about drugs. She said caffeine was a drug and Diet Dr. Pepper has caffeine in it. So, I can't drink it any more 'cause I am not a druggie."
With a big sigh, I explained that caffeine was a weird kind of drug and as long as she didn't drink too much of it or drink it too late, she was going to be alright. This caused Daughter 2 to take a great pause to think about what I'd just told her in connection with what she'd learned at school. As she drained her water, but before she asked for Diet Dr. Pepper refill instead of water, she said, "I know about Tabasco."
"It's hot," I started to explained, "I don't like it, but Daddy likes to put it on his eggs."
"Oh! My! Gawd! Momma!" she said as her eyes bugged from their little sockets, "That's horrible! Why do you let him do that?"
"He likes it." I stammered
"It will kill him!" she screamed with double the passion as she had when she exclaimed she wasn't a druggie just five minutes before.
Before I could explain to her that it wouldn't kill him and maybe she was thinking of something else, she relayed the story that her counselor told her about a man who had used Tabasco his whole life and eventually couldn't breathe without the help of oxygen. "And do you know what happened to that man, Momma? He died all because of Tabasco!" Her little voice betraying her as she was almost on the verge of tears thinking about her daddy and his plight as Tabasco slowly took his breath away.
"I think," I said, trying to compose myself and not laugh right in her little sincere face, "You're talking about tobacco and not Tabasco, which is a sauce."
 |
| Maybe I need to tend to my yard more! |
It was now my turn for my eyes to bug out. Please, oh please tell me that she didn't really say something like that to her teacher!
"But don't worry, Momma," she consoled me with a pat to my shoulder, "She said as long as you don't pick your weeds and smoke them, it's OK."
I grinned at her then she added, "You don't smoke them, do you?"
I shook my head no... Heck! I don't even pick 'em!
