It was all because of the cupcakes.
Meg was riveted by them from the moment we arrived at the party. There seemed to be thousands of them to her small eyes, all green, and gorgeous, and brimming with sugary promise. She knew she would do anything to make one her own.
Never before was it so easy to feed her. Once she heard she would get a cupcake if she finished dinner she took it as a verbal contract, and ate as if going for a bonus. We could have made her eat liver wrapped in spinach dipped in Marmite and she would have gulped it down, knowing every bite was getting her one step closer to cupcake nirvana.
She didn't care about opening presents. The other kids oohed and ahhed over every thing that was opened, but Meg just sat next to our neighbor Erica, keeping up a steady patter about the cupcakes that sat just ten feet away. Erica tried to distract her, pointing out every new toy that piled up on the table in front of the oblivious one year old birthday boy, but Meg could not be distracted.
Finally, it was time for cake. She kneeled on one of the picnic benches, just inches from her goal. She listened and smiled as everyone sang "Happy Birthday." She put one hand on the table, and then brought the other hand up -- and missed.
She fell face first onto the concrete under the table.
Ryan and I sprinted the second we saw her start to fall. Eight feet has never felt farther. When we got to her she was a mess of tears and snot, but not obviously injured. We checked her teeth, and her head, and all of her appendages. Nothing broken, nothing bruised. Still, she couldn't stop crying. We both were sure there was something really wrong -- until she choked out a single word: "cupcake."
She was fine the second the frosting hit her lips. Her Dad even let her have half of his too.
I think if you asked her she would say it was totally worth it.
13 comments:
The lesson here, Mama, is to let her eat the cupcakes first.
Haha! She's right: cupcakes make everything better. I should try this at work tomorrow and see what happens.
Aww bless her. Glad the cupcake made everything better, and that she wasn't hurt. :)
You described this so well I experienced the entire incident and my heart went to my throat when the precious child fell. We've all been there and know the healing powers of sugar. So happy Meg was okay.
Ah, an all-too-familiar scenario at our place--both the fall and the cupcake love. Glad little Meggie is okay.
They are called....Priorities. I feel her pain:)
Poor baby! The tears are killing meeeeee! Thank god for cupcakes. Or as my son (still) calls them:
"Cupcapes."
Poor baby! I kind of feel bad for laughing over her singular focus on the cupcake even after doing a face plant. :D
Poor baby!
I am glad she is okay - but you both must have been very shaken up to share part of his dessert-y goodness!!
Oh my. I'm so glad nothing was hurt and that the cupcake made all right with the world again.
This is truly a testament to the healing power of cupcakes. I find they make it more comfortable for sitting thanks to all the extra padding I carry around on my duff because of them.
Meg, Meg, Meg... I have the same affinity for things blanketed in frosting. I completely understand. That picture of her is pathetic. Thats one shiny face as a result of all that runny snot. Poor thing. :-(
I've used cupcakes to soothe myself in exactly this way and anyone will attest that it works better than nitrous oxide and xanax any day.
Still, the chocolately goodness topped by sea blue frosting is making me long for a trip to the local bakery.
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