The scene: Tyler, who has been, of late, very much in daddy-mode, is in my arms. He is melting my heart with a plethora of hugs and will not allow me to set him down. As such, I’m simply walking around the house, holding my son and quite eagerly accepting these hugs. I walk into the kitchen, where Sarah is working. She is making a new dish with noodles and sausage and lots more deliciousness. Presently, she is cutting a large, white onion.

Tyler: Uhnyin!

Sarah: Yes, Tyler, mommy is cutting an onion for dinner.

Tyler: TyTy have it.

At this point, Sarah rolls her eyes. I don’t see this happen, but after living with the queen of sarcasm and cynicism for nearly seven years, I can sense these things. Sometimes, I swear I can hear her eyes rolling at some lame joke of mine. The reason for the the eye rolling is two-fold. First, Tyler wants to “have” everything. He has only recently stopped asking to have mommy’s and daddy’s morning coffee. The second, and more significant reason is that I love… love… LOVE raw onions. I could eat handful upon handful of chopped raw onion. I have, actually. It has gotten to the point that I am warned at family dinners that “the onions are for EVERYONE, not just you.” Sarah, and probably everyone else that is commonly withing two feet of me, hates it. It turns out that no amount of telling those same folks the positive effects that consuming onions has on one’s heart and health can erase the negative effects they have on one’s breath.

Sarah handed Tyler and myself a sizable piece of onion, which we both promptly set to consuming.

Tyler: Spicy.

Me: Yeah… I guess you could call an onion spicy.

Tyler: More uhnyin peez (please).

Sarah, to me: I blame you for this.

Me: What?! Why?

Sarah: Don’t even.

Be Sociable, Share!

•