It does not take very much excitement to be a red-letter day in the Pickwickian domicile. In fact, it does not take any excitement at all. Sometimes I fear we may be depriving the children of the wild enthusiasm of, say, a trip to Disney Land. However, most of the time, I prefer to consider our lack of rollercoasters and fireworks to be a Very Deliberate Parenting Method, in which I am constantly cultivating their appreciation for the little things in life. For instance, I have forgotten to purchase cinnamon for several grocery trips in a row. I can not wait for the celebration that will ensue when I bring 2 oz of this favorite spice back into our lives. I will build the anticipation for several days, allow a very fortunate young Pickwick to add it to the grocery list in her best script, and then, if I remember to actually purchase it, let the party begin.
However, the great cinnamon jollification will have to wait until at least next week, because we have already spent our excitement allowances this week. I replaced the children’s toothbrushes. Yes, in a positive spree of prodigal dental generosity (and also because one or two had gone mysteriously missing, so it seemed like an ideal time), four brand new toothbrushes made their debut on the Pickwickian sink. The most literate of the young Pickwicks was thrilled, as she pointed out that the package said toothbrushes should be replaced once a month and theirs had not been replaced since our move (er, over six months ago). I beg you, parents of pre-literate children: do think carefully before educating your offspring. There is no going back.
The nearly-least literate of the small Pickwicks was also thrilled. She was so thrilled that I was in fact, greeted by the new toothbrush the next morning, cheerfully hopping across my pillow. And when Baby Pickwick expressed a mild complaint that she could not have that toothbrush, another one hopped across the pillow just for her. In fact, the perky little toothbrushes have been cheerfully hopping all over the house. They do not seem to be merely the tools of proper dental hygiene that I had imagined they would be, they seem to be friends. I believe the next time I go toothbrush shopping I will look for some that are not quite so personable. I am afraid at this rate one or more of our little buddies will go missing and we won’t get our full six-months out of this set. Perhaps I will buy the cinnamon this week after all, as a distraction.