People, I just can't work under these conditions

Bear had malaise today. He's three freaking years old, he gets malaise. No, not sick. Just bored with summer. He misses the evil YMCA program. He's addicted to Digimon. It's a lot for a little boy to handle. He spent the late morning sitting on the couch, cuddled by Niñera, his babysitter. (And for the multilingual, yes, I just pseudonymed my Spanish babysitter with the Spanish word FOR babysitter. Clever, ain't I?) Nin was feeding Bear. Poor dear was too malaised to actually spoon his own Cheerios into his little rosebud mouth. The same Bear who, as a baby, was known affectionately as the "Velociraptor" now can hardly eat for his own pickiness. It's a toddler thing, and I feel for him there. But the "Woe is Me" thing got old FAST. Determined to kick us all back into gear, I swooped him up after Nin left and took him to the playground by his Montessori school. Sure enough, there were some kids he knew, and he immediately perked up. We raced around for an hour, and dagnabbit it felt good. His gusty laugh melted my ears with happy. Whole Foods has a sale on raspberries, so I bought a pint and we came home. I made a dinner that would have us all gathered around the table, animatedly sharing and bonding like real families. On a weeknight. You know, like the ones in the movies. Menu: Grilled Chicken and Sausage kabobs, marinated in rum, crushed raspberries, olive oil, paprika Tomato salad with raspberry vinaigrette White rice mixed with veggies sauteed with Chinese herbs and red wine We gathered. We said Thanks. We dug in. Bite. Chew. "OK," announced Bear. "I'm done now. May I be excused?"