Saturday, June 6, 2009

A Breakfast Cereal Metaphor

Miles is eating Cheerios now. He grabs them with his pudgy little hands and maneuvers them into his mouth. Only about half of them end up there. The rest I find in the crevices of the high chair, on the floor, some even end up in his diaper somehow.

Whenever a Cheerio falls on the floor, Miles bends over the side of his chair staring at it. I try to tell him that I'm not going to pick it up, and that even if I were I wouldn't let him eat it. staring...

I try to physically turn his body and sit him upright, but he just goes right back, hunched over the side...staring at the Cheerio.

I try to show him that he has FIVE Cheerios on his tray, and I even throw in his sippy-cup.

No deal. staring at the Cheerio...

After about five minutes of this and some banging the spoon on the tray or making some funny noise to get his attention, he finally forgets about the Cheerio on the floor and commences enjoying the ones he has in front on him...until the next one falls...

Why is it that we cling so much to the past? It's on the floor, there is no way to get it back, and yet, we are transfixed by it. We stare longingly over the side of the chair, analyzing it, questioning it, wondering what would happen if only we could have it back again. Meanwhile, no one is able to convince us that there is something even better right under our noses.

Life is abundant with Cheerios! Leave the ones that fall to the floor alone...they are food for the dog now.

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