Our little family had great plans for New Year’s eve, but they fell apart last minute. That happens when children are involved, I’ve learnt. My lovely parents heard these rumours and quickly invited us to ring the new year in with them.
We wanted to bring something for the dinner and I made a list of stuff you can never have enough of; Good bread, raspberries and blackberries, Västerbottenost (a Swedish cheese sent from the Gods), mixed candy, champagne and black currant liquor – for the Kir Royal.
I wanted to go down to the store and bring Igge by foot. We’re trying to get him used to walking rather than always sitting like a Buddha in his pram. Shivers run up my spine when I see (practically) teenagers in prams with pacifiers, being pushed around by a parent who speak baby language to them. Therefor I want my child to get used to using his own, perfectly high functioning legs! We’ve done it before, taken Igge by foot to the mall next to us and it has gone perfectly fine. However, this was the first time one of us took him there – alone.
It started out fine, he’s a good walker. He knows to stop when there’s a street and look both ways. He holds my hand the whole time without fuzz. He even carries his own hat when we’re inside the mall and there’s no complaining. “Swell” I thought, “this is no match”.
Then we entered the food shop. Mistake nr 1: As I needed both hands to grab the good bread, I let go of Igge’s little cherub hand, and in the blink of an eye he was gone. As I turned around to look for him, I saw a mountain of oranges magically disappear. Since the odds that it wasn’t David Copperfield behind that mountain of oranges, I assumed it was The Child. Correct. We picked the oranges up and he took a bite of 3 of them.
Moving over to the berries. Now holding the chunky little hand like we’re glued together he won’t be able to run away and destroy anything. Well, he didn’t run away. Mistake nr 2: Saying hi to an old friend. During this brief “Hi! Hope you had a good Christmas. Happy New year!” my innocent little baby boy had grabbed a red onion, taken a bite of it and put it in the basket. He had done the same thing with every item he could reach from being glued to his mother’s iron fist. Three apples, two ridiculously expensive avocados, one sliced watermelon, mysteriously missing a piece of its plastic wrapper, and a pot of fresh basil.
What to say? He likes red onion
With a grunt and a sigh we continued towards the cheese. When it’s a special occasion I buy cheese over the counter, partially because you can choose a more luxurious version of what you want, partially because you get to try it before you buy it. That way you know for sure if it will go with whatever meal you have planned. A very nice, older gentleman helped us choose cheese. Of course he let me try the cheese first. Of course he let Igge try them to. Mistake nr 3: Of course I let him try. I’m the daughter of a French “Cheese King”, it’s in my bones and soul to love French delicatessen and I hope that Igge will grow up to find it as delicious as my family does. So of course I let him try new, exciting cheese when the opportunity arises. What I didn’t count on was the new, not-so-exciting-tantrum he would get when there was no more free samples of cheese from endangered Balkan donkeys to try. There he was, sitting on the floor in tears, crying “no mowe tuffe siiiis. No mowe sedda siiis. No mowe siiiiiiis!” Kids of today, right?
Sweaty and with a hysterical smile on my face I put the child in my basket and quickly rolled away. This is when I made mistake nr 4: As we, faster than lightning, passed the pick ‘n mix candy Igge suddenly screamed “itty bitty byde klätta uppa tån!” (Itsy bitsy spider in Swenglish) and threw himself out of the basket in high speed. Before I had turned around he was holding two liquorice spiders, a few jello raspberries and a pack of Maltesers. I managed to bend his jaws and save one of the spiders. Half chewed and slimey I added it to the basket of joy.
After paying I had to return the basket to where I took it. Quickly I realised that this needed more hands than I had available, so I told Igge to hold on to our very heavy shopping bag. “And you do NOT letting it go!” I said with my angry face on to make sure he stayed put. Mistake nr 5: I never actually SAID “and don’t move”. I walked over to the basket stand, put the basket in place and turned around just in time to see the child run across the mall isle to the news agent – still holding on to the shopping bag. I ran after, surprised how fast my not even 2 year old is, despite dragging a massive shopping bag. Just as he took a bite of a banana, with the peel on, I got my hands on him. Had to buy the banana.
Now we’re bringing good bread and good cheese to the New Year’s dinner. We’re also bringing lots of bruised fruit and vegetables with bitemarks, and candy, where the sugar has already been sucked of.
New Year’s Dinner according to Igge