Munner's Day & Milk Oh My

May 8, 2010

It has been exactly 2 weeks since Mom passed away. Cameryn declared yesterday that from now on, the day before Mother's Day was going to officially be Munner's Day. He said he thought it was a good idea for her to have her own holiday because she would have liked that. Before he went home on Friday night, he made a card for her. He cut a butterfly out of paper and folded it in half, the inside reads…
“Dere Grandmunner,
I am sory that you diid but I hope you are having fun up thare. I hop lot’s of things for you. I miss you.
Love You,
Cameryn”
He left it on my desk next to her photograph as we were getting ready to leave. He looked up at me with sad round eyes and said, “I hope she likes it.” I hugged him and assured him I’m sure she does!




Dad and I both slept late this morning. It was after 10:30 when I received a text from a friend. I was shocked to see how late it was and bounded from the bed. Richard came in the room moments later and laughed at my sense of panic. He pointed out it was ok to slow down because Dad hadn’t gotten up yet either. He said he had to run to the store for milk because Susan (his sister) had drunk the last of it. He wanted to get it before Dad got up. Milk is an important part of Dad’s morning ritual for breakfast.
As luck would have it, Dad got up about 15 minutes later and headed straight to the kitchen. He proceeded to go about his routine… until he realized we were out of milk.
“Shari, there isn’t any milk!”
“I know, Dad. Richard went to the store to get some. He should be back soon.” I assured him.
“What in the hell keeps happening to the milk? Somebody keeps drinking it all.”
A small voice replies from the living room, “I drink it, Daddy.”
“Susan, nobody drinks that much milk.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes before looking at me pointedly.
“Daddy, I do. I love milk. I drink it all the time. I drink about a gallon a day.” This is a true statement. I have seen her do it the whole time she has been here.
“Milk is not good for you! Susan, you really shouldn’t drink that much milk. Besides, it is expensive.”
Quietly Susan said, “That’s why I have bought most of it myself, Daddy.” She then moved to the back porch.

Dad poured himself a large glass of orange juice and informed me he would just have to wait for Richard to get back to have breakfast. He slowly began moving around the kitchen making a halfhearted attempt at unloading the dishwasher.
I knew Susan was hurt by his comments so I went outside to check on her. When I returned he was sitting at the bar cheerfully munching on his bowl of cereal. “Dad, don’t you want to wait for the milk?”
He said it was fine. “But isn’t it dry?” I asked.
“Not at all,” he replied, pointing to his almost empty orange juice glass. “It’s not bad. Really, you should try it.”
I am sure I looked slightly horrified when I asked him if he had put orange juice on his Cheerios and banana. He suggested I “just try it”.
I tactfully said I couldn’t because I have a cold and don’t want him to get it. He laughed and said he didn’t want me to use his spoon, he wanted me to get one of my own. With an indulgent smile, I took a spoon out and went to his side. I looked in his bowl and told him I wasn’t too sure about this. With a twinkle in his eye he said, “C’mon try it. If you don’t it makes you a… chicken.”
I dipped the spoon in and tried a bite (I have never been able to resist a dare). When I finally managed to swallow it down, he said, “See, not bad at all.”
I moved to the sink with a grin at his playfulness. I know he doesn’t have taste beds but I would never tell him I know. I will let him keep the secret that he can't even taste it. I enjoy these games we play. But I think I will stick to milk on my cereal thank you very much!