Squirrel Blood

Every morning I make my son a chocolate milk and I place the sippy cup on the pillow next to him. He wakes up and drinks his milk. Sometimes he gets up and sometimes he keeps sleeping when he's done. Some days he doesn't even wake up to drink the milk until I'm putting him in his car seat.

This morning when he woke up and reached for his chocolate milk I said, "Let me shake that for you," because it had been sitting for a while and I knew that the chocolate had settled to the bottom of the cup.

"No!" he screamed.

"Why not? You are so silly!" I said, "It is the exact same chocolate milk you always drink and that I always shake when I make it for you. It will taste the same."

"No it won't!" he insisted but he took a drink anyway. After taking a drink he made a face and screamed, "It tastes like... like... squirrel blood!"

"Give me that milk," I said, wondering when in the world he had tasted squirrel blood.

I took it and put in in the fridge. Before leaving I said, "Do you want me to give you another chocolate milk that I made?"

"Yes!" he said.

On the way out the door I carried him and I opened the refrigerator with one hand. I took the exact same chocolate milk out and handed it to him. He didn't ask and I didn't tell. He drank it just fine.