Hello, latte, my old friend

Glen and I have often joked in the past that the timing of David and Elizabeth's illnesses can be almost 100% correlated with Glen's travel plans. I mean, these kids have the preciseness of an atomic clock: when Glen leaves town, someone comes down with a bug.

And so it was the case this morning, when Elizabeth came downstairs and suddenly proclaimed, "Mommy! My tummy feels funny!"

I asked her, "are you okay?" not being too sure of what was really ailing her.

"I'm NOT sick!" she declared adamantly, and with a stamp of her little foot for emphasis. And then, in a blink of an eye, her hand went up to her mouth. The international signal of, "I'm about to hurl."

"Ah! I know just what to do. Come here, sweetie. Come with me to the bathroom," I emplored her. She whined just a little, but was interrupted by the mysterious, icky-tasting substance that suddenly entered her mouth. She complied with my instructions to aim for the toilet bowl, and did so like a pro. Sorry to be graphic, but it was instantly clear that the offending culprit was last night's chocolate ice cream.

"Yucky!" she cried, as she wiped her hand. I asked David to fetch me a dish towel from the kitchen, which he was all too happy to do. I cleaned off her face and her hands, and explained to her the practicality and convenience of barfing into the toilet. "See? When I flush, it all goes away!"

She was unimpressed, but glad to have that episode over. She settled in for a brief cuddle, and declined my offers of toast and water. I was very glad to know that my wonderful friend (and second mom) Jorgelina, who has known me since before even I was born, would be coming by today to lend me a hand around the house.

"I think you should stay home today with Jorgelina, sweetie," I explained, and added, "we should probably skip ballet tonight, too."

"Okay, " she replied. "I stay home with Jorgie."

I looked up to see a very forlorn David, staring at his feet. "What's wrong, buddy?" I asked, still sitting on the bathroom floor.

"I want to stay home, too" he said tragically. "I want to stay home with Elizabeth and Jorgie. And you know why?"

Well, of course I knew why; what kid doesn't jump at the chance to play hookie from school? But I played along. "No, why?"

"Because I want to share my Lego with her!" he said, clearly as a delayed response to yesterday's explanation of why he can't play with her Lego sets if she can't play with his.

"Sweetie, now that you're in first grade, you have to go to school. They're expecting you. I know you want to stay home, but I'm sorry. I really am."

Soon after, Jorgelina arrived, and was more than happy to have Elizabeth be her little companion at home. David tried once more seize the opportunity and and appeal to my sympathies. It didn't work.

David and I then piled into the car, and I backed out of the garage and headed to Foothill Country Day School. We were running just a tad behind, but it looked like we'd make it there by the 8:15 start time.

As we drove along, David continued gently plead his case. "Mommy, if Elizabeth stays home today, and has to take a nap, I would take a nap with her!"

Now, here I'll admit that this statement was a bit unusual; David hates taking naps. Well, heck, so does Elizabeth, but once she's down for the count, she's out! I replied, "that is so incredibly sweet, David. As big brothers go, you're the best in the business." I then explained to him that while I think her tummy was upset due to last night's dessert, if there was a chance that she had a bug, I really didn't want him to be that close to her and risk him catching the same germs.

"Yeah, cuddling in bed would be really close, huh?" he said sweetly.

We pulled up to the circle driveway of Foothill with one minute to spare before class started. Still at the curb greeting the students was one teacher and our headmaster. I pulled up, rolled down the window, and said to the two gentlemen, "we're bringing up the rear!"

"Well, somebody has to!" Mr. Clark said. "You're right on time."

Once David was safely installed at school, it occurred to me that I hadn't had breakfast. Having just witnessed a three-year-old's tummy trouble, I was not too hungry. So, I pointed the car in the direction of the Claremont Village, and began considering my options. McDonalds? No; oddly enough, a diet Coke didn't sound good to me. Some Crust Bakery? Um ... tempting, but I wasn't hankering a huge Danish pastry. And, then I saw the green sign with the all-to-familiar Siren inside. Starbucks. That was it.

As I walked into the cafe, I was greeted by the wonderful aromas of coffee, sweets, and warmth. I was instantly taken back to my years at Truman College in Chicago, when my co-workers and I would happily make a daily pilgrimage to the Starbucks across the street. Such visits were especially welcome during the snowy winter months. Clearly, there wasn't any snow in Claremont this morning, but this particular visit to the Starbucks on Yale Ave. brought me peace, happiness, and a tall latte.