This morning while visiting with Mrs. K. I was reminded of the time the boy got high…. Mrs. K. loves to hear me tell tales about my children and usually remarks afterward, “Kids are the same, regardless the generation”. I sometimes embrace that idea with a “Whoo hoo my kids are normal!” while other times I’m upset “Damn and I thought they were special!” But I digress….
We were attending my niece’s wedding reception at one of the more prestigious clubs in our town. As is the style nowadays, dinner isn’t served until guests conclude a cocktail hour; complete with grazing stations for everyone to nibble on while visiting and enjoying their cocktails. Scattered throughout the venue were various stations of food: A large sushi bar, a roast tenderloin bar, along with a beautifully arranged raw fruit and vegetable bar. The adults were in heaven mingling from station to station, sipping drinks and catching up with one another. There was one more station, most adults missed-as the alcohol bar wasn’t located in the same room. A devious and dangerous station, especially for our children…
The Candy Bar.
Now I appreciate the idea behind the “candy” bar. I really do. If I remember correctly, my niece and her hubby had their engagement picture on all the m&m’s along with their initials and wedding date on all the other hard candy. This was a nice and seemingly sweet way to ensure people remembered their wedding. Guests could fill a small silk pouch and take home sweets from the sweet wedding. Too bad my children saw those bags as opportunities to fill as many bags as possible and stash to eat throughout the night. Even when I caught on to what they were doing, they had hidden so many bags of candy around the venue that we were hopeless to stop them.
The way sugar affected my son that night made him brave. In the real world, he’s the most cautious boy you will ever meet. That night, he learned sliding on his knees was fun-he had never attempted to do that before. All of a sudden, he was sliding everywhere. So imagine, I’m on the dance floor with a bunch of my siblings, dancing along to the music, all the while keeping an eye out for my sugar high son, when I spot him across the room. Our eyes met. He smiled. A feeling of dread came over me as I watch that beautiful smile of his, gain momentum across his face as he began running toward me. “Dear God! He’s going to attempt to slide on his knees to land in front of me” I thought as my eyes tracked hm. Sure enough, somehow, miraculously, the dance floor parted as soon as he his knees hit the floor and he began to slide-eventually landing in front of me, arms outstretched as if to announce his arrival and sporting a fantastic smile of triumph.
In hindsight I have to admit his slide and timing were pretty impressive…until the woman who was dancing across from me-with her back to the boy-was undercut by his action, lost her balance and began falling backward. Seeing there was nothing to stop her from landing upon and effectively squashing my son, “Protective Momma Bear” sprang into action. On instinct I reached out with both arms and grabbed the woman around her midsection and tried my best to stop her momentum. Others saw the commotion and jumped into help. Thankfully we helped her regain her balance and my son was saved from being squashed! He was not however saved from “Pissed Off Momma Bear” who grabbed his arm, dragged him from the dance floor and made him sit with his father so he had time to come down from his sugar high and would restrict his “candy bar” access for the rest of the night.
Lesson learned: Candy “bars” at weddings, while a nice sweet idea, really ain’t all that sweet…except in our memories.