When the munchkin is sick, cooking and preparing food for him takes on a whole new meaning. I learned “efficiency” within the an hour of trying to get Henry to eat something the first time he was not feeling up to par. I started to introduce little amounts of food that could be repackaged, or put back in the refrigerator. Carry my experience forward to yesterday when my big sister, Julie, had a two-day layover in Denver, after designing, making and delivering a prom dress to my niece (my other sister’s daughter) in Duncan. God bless her for making the journey from Beverly Hills to rural Oklahoma. Personally, I never have a problem putting on boots and ten-gallon hat, but Julie is a girlie girl, complex in every facet of life. She is into her Benz, designer clothing, nightlife, and pint-size dog that she loves like a child. My other sister, Gina, is simple. Their polar-opposite personalities sometimes lead to days of conflict, but they always make up. Our family, as a whole, has been doing this for as long as I can remember, but what family doesn’t have an occasional argument? Our efforts to work together, and function as one unit (I supplied the buddy pass, Gina supplied the daughter, and Julie supplied everyone with a welcome surprise), make me proud to be part of such a dysfunctional family.
Julie lasted about 12 hours in Oklahoma before it was time to bail out. Unfortunately, she had to spend a few more hours “in-country,” when her flight was canceled. To the city girl’s relief, there were plenty of open seats on a Southwest flight, so she was in Denver sooner rather than later. What can I say? Things went well: no arguments, no disagreements, nothing bad. The entire visit was actually, uh, awesome. It really was (I can’t believe we all had a great time)! I think Henry had a lot to do with it, as he was Julie’s point of interest. In fact, I tried giving yogurt to Henry yesterday, which he promptly rejected, so I put it back into the container for another time. Julie jumped in, added strawberries to a scoop of yogurt, and handed it to Henry. He rejected her, too, but did so with confident animation. Because my sister lacks parental “efficiency,” we had to throw out the yogurt, but it gave me a good chuckle. Henry normally just turns away from strangers, but did not hesitate to look her in the eye for the dreaded “no yogurt” response. To be able to photograph how he said it, and remember the look on his face, makes this photograph stand out in my mind. I think it’s a keeper for his book (and collection of close to 50,000 photographs).