Sometimes, we call Sweetboy “The Big Cheese”. For all of the reasons you can possibly conjure in your mind. And then some. Now that you know that pertinent piece of information, what I’m about to relay will make more sense. Maybe…
Sweetman, Sweetgirl and I were down in the playroom snuggling on the couch while Sweetboy was up stairs hopping away, when Sweetgirl asked for a “Sweetgirl Sandwich”. This is not an edible sandwich, however; it’s a kind of hug. Daddy and I stick a kidlet or the kidlets in between the two of us and we do a squeeze hug, which we call a Family Sandwich. (This all started as part of Sweetboy’s Sensory therapy when he was little. We would help him alleviate his need for sensory input by providing great big bear hugs.)
I suppose Sweetgirl decided it was high time we had just a “her” sandwich. In any case, we did a Sweetgirl Sandwich and she giggled delightedly and asked for a second helping. We obliged. Sweetboy heard all of the ruckus and made his way down to see what was going on. When he discovered that we were doing a Family Sandwich, he, of course, wanted in. So we smushed the two of them in between us and hugged the stuffing out of them both.
At this time, Sweetman informed the kidlets that we were the pieces of bread and Sweetboy was the Big Cheese. Sweetgirl instantly asked, “And what am I, Daddy?” We looked at each other above their heads and that man? He read my mind! Because, his response was, “You’re the Turkey, of course!” We all collapsed into fits of giggles and laughter.
And it was the most satisfying Sandwich I’ve had in a good long while. Indeed.