bob1217

"Guess what!" Susanne said with an enthusiasm that was clearly over-embellished.

"The whole school is getting a hot pretzel today. For free!"

"Uh huh," I respond cautiously.

"Not just Charlie's class. The whole school! Everyone! Everyone in the school will be eating a hot pretzel!"

"OK, I get it."

"Isn't it great???"

I applaud her use of sarcasm. Something I take pride in. We both know full well, this was in fact not great. Not great at all. Hot pretzels have never been kind.

"What is he?" I asked.

"140."

"Everyone will be eating one," she repeated, as if I am the carb police prepared to put a stop to the whole thing.

"No, I know. Of course he's going to eat the pretzel."

"But what would you have done if he was 350?"

I ask her this not to test her, but because I'm not sure what I would do in that situation.

"Well," she said, "I would have him bring it home for later and he would get very upset and cry."

I agreed. He would be a mess. Thank goodness for that 140.

So, given the green light via communication from blood to meter, from meter to nurse, from nurse to mother, Charlie is right now smiling from ear to ear and diving into a big, salty hot pretzel with the rest of the school. And now we wait, knowing it could be disastrous.

It's like dipping your child into a shark tank and then taking him out two hours later to see how he made out.

Alright. I suppose that's a bit dramatic.

I will gladly accept your positive vibes as Charlie takes on the pretzel. Have a great weekend everyone.