Anders confessed to feeding her his unwanted Granny Smith apple slices during snack on Thursday. Well, confess implies he came to me all guilty and sad-eyed to own up to his misdeed. Instead I caught him sneaking her pieces of quesadilla at lunch today. And this after I was up at 4:00 a.m. to take her out, and then I couldn't get back to sleep, and then I spent the wee hours of the morn wondering what dread disease she would be diagnosed with next week at her annual checkup.
So I was in a less than understanding mood about the quesadilla.
"Anders! Stop!" I said. "What's wrong with you?! Remember Fizz can't eat people food? Now throw out that hunk of gnawed quesadilla!"
Anders, looking guilty, "Sorry Mommy! I remember. She only eats apples."
"Apples? No, she doesn't eat apples either. No people food."
"Well, she ate them at snack yesterday." (By yesterday he could mean any day in the past, but the only day we had apples was for snack on Thursday afternoon.)
Ah. Mystery solved. At least we don't need an ultrasound and $50 worth of steroids and antibiotics.
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