No Soup for You!

According to Madan, soup is toxic -- a horrible poison that will kill you.

Yesterday was Madan's 6th day of Safety Town. The "Street Team" from Rainbow Babies & Children's Hospital's Injury Prevention Center visited to discuss poison safety. (Or, scare the crap out of kids.) The kids got handouts entitled, "Circle Me If I'm Safe to Eat." (Yes. If I had created that sheet, the pictures would have been very different and I probably would have been fired.)

Madan's completed handout left a few unanswered questions.

1. Are those vitamins or muscle relaxers?
   No clue, but Madan wants to eat them. So, he's either going to be totally healthy or totally comatose. That one's a win-win, I guess, provided the coma is temporary.
   
   
2. What up with the soup?
   Could he have mistaken the can for something else, say, Comet? Or, had he witnessed my parents opening up some Campbell's Condensed Tomato Soup, a red blob plopping out into a saucepan while maintaining the shape of its container? If he did, then good job, Doobie! Food, especially liquid food, shouldn't keep the shape of its can.

I guess soup isn't always good food.

Kindergarteners Without Hats

I think Madan starts Safety Town tomorrow. I'm not sure because I signed him up 6 months ago and wrote nothing down. I wrongly assumed that the Safety Towners would treat me like the grown doofus I am and send a "hey asshole, Safety Town is tomorrow" email or leave a voicemail on the phone I never answer.

Nope. Okay, my bad.

So, I'm relying on a scrap of paper I found in my purse that said something about Funky Town and something about Madan and something about tomorrow. I guess I'll drive him to where I think the safety stuff happens and hope for the best. If no one is there, I'll take him out for a donut and call it quality time. But, just in case tomorrow is the start of Safety Town, I dedicated 10 minutes today to preparing Madan for what's in store because I am a damn good mother.

I told him that he'd be with other little people in a medieval village. There'd be lots of dancing and girls wearing peasant skirts. I also taught him how to jump and make an "S" with his hands. I told him how fun maypoles were and showed him some morris dancing. I offered to fashion his khakis into knickers, but he turned me down. I hope the men with or without hats don't mind.