Last night, we rode bikes to the nearest snow cone stand. We just found this place and it’s currently your all-time favorite. You can’t get enough. I’m pretty sure you could eat an entire extra large snow cone if we would let you, but your teeth would be vibrating until Wednesday from the sugar high. So, instead you settle for a small (without the cone on top (which is actually just an extra small parading as a small (shhhhh, readers, don’t tell him))).
The last time we went, you got strawberry which is bright red and it stains your tongue and lips. It looks like you caught a squirrel and then tore into it raw, like something out of Gracie the dog’s dreams. You were enchanted with your new mouth; we took several pictures. You declared that STRAWBERRY was the BEST FLAVOR EVER.
Today, you decided to try dad’s snow cone flavor- blue raspberry. The artificial neon blue coloring (which is totally found in nature….ahem) turned your entire mouth blue. Lips, tongue, teeth, gums, probably your esophagus. You looked like you were on the verge of hypothermia, as if you could actually freeze to death sitting outside a snow cone stand on a warmish September evening in Texas. I would not be surprised if the blue dye exits your body tomorrow in a very exciting bathroom visit.
Needless to say, the blue was disconcerting.
And then the sugar kicked in and you made this funny face I can’t even describe and a terrible noise like a charging elephant.
And something about it struck me as funny. In that moment, with your blue mouth and your expressive face and your highly-developed knowledge of what makes things funny, with my banana snow-cone and lack of sleep, I got so tickled that I started to laugh-cry. Which made your dad start laughing and then you started laughing. And then we were all laughing until we were howling with tears in our eyes and banging the picnic table and gripping our stomachs and scaring the people in the drive-thru line.
In the back of my mind, I was thinking that I should treasure this moment, treasure the sound of your laugh, treasure the look of panic you flashed me as you backed away from me when I laughingly-tearfully declared that I was going to throw up, treasure the joy on your face as you realized that you were the impetus for this family laugh fest.
I can’t be certain, but I’d bet that heaven rejoiced at the sound of our snow cone hysterics.
After all, it’s the sound of a family finding their way to each other.
I love you, my blue-tongued boy.