The best bite

click on the photos to see my yard work up close.
Thanks to Adeline for giving me SO MANY perennials!

I often save the best bite for last. It's an exquisite bite, proportioned perfectly to fit on my fork with equal amounts of carrot, potato and meat, or ice cream and caramel, or chocolate and nougat. Since I've had Luke, eating has become more about what Luke needs to get through a polite meal at the table and less about watching my plate or even noticing if I ate anything at all. Meals often go by in a blur and I am content to know that something made it into my son's and my own stomach. I do sometimes need my space and I dream about meals when he will never ask for a bite and I will never have to share. Because if he asks, I always share. I can't say no to the little boy who says, "Tanks, Mama!" as if I just handed him the keys to his very own car. And it just doesn't seem right to eat something right in front of him and not give him a bite. Solution: don't eat it in front of him. Sometimes I wait for him to go to sleep before I eat just so that I can eat an entire banana from start to finish without sharing. And sometimes I have special treats that I hide away in the cupboard and only bring out when he's gone or sleeping, and I hoard them and I savor them and I revere them. Yes, I'm talking specifically about See's candy.

I brought a pound of bordeaux home from California as a special treat just for me. I've been eating one every now and then when I needed one of those, "All alone just for me" times. Yesterday I took my See's downstairs during Luke's afternoon nap so that I could iron some t-shirts and enjoy my sweets. I left them on my sewing table thinking that if Derek and I watched some TV later that evening maybe I'd eat the very last one - or maybe I'd save it for a special occasion - or for a time when I really needed a pick me up. After dinner I went over to Adeline's house to dig up some of her perennials which she was going to split with me, and Luke and Derek stayed home. I dug and planted and finally came in just in time to put Luke to bed, took a shower, and went down to flop on the couch to watch TV. Just before the much needed flop, I saw what appeared to be rat droppings on the couch! As I inspected them more carefully I recoiled in disbelief. There, on the couch in the basement - there were hundreds of...I can hardly say it... little chocolate sprinkles. Between the cushions, on the floor, on the coffee table. And under the corner of the couch? My See's candy box. Empty. My very last bordeaux.

I knew I was giving up certain things when I had a child. I knew I was giving up the greeting when I walked into a room - people don't say "Hi Laura!", anymore, they say "Hi, Luke!". I knew I was giving up solid nights of sleep. I knew I was giving up being footloose enough to walk to the ice cream store whenever I felt hungry for ice cream. I knew I was giving up close relationships with numerous people - the pool of people who know me best has dwindled since my days are full of Luke. I knew I was giving up having lovely belongings that stayed pretty and clean and whole. I knew I was giving up all these wonderful things. But what I didn't count on was giving up the best bite. That one hurts.