Legend of the Purple Dinosaur

STOP RIGHT THERE!

This is NOT a post about THAT purple dinosaur (aka He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named).

Nope, this is a post about ICE CREAM (and head CTs and messy eating. Read on.)

Bruster's Ice Cream offers a free kids-sized cone to anyone under 40 inches tall.
Free ice cream = SWEET! (Especially when it's big enough for a small adult = LEFT-OVERS FOR MOM-E AND DAD-E)

One of the flavors is called "Purple Dinosaur." I assume it's named for it's purple color, because I don't think it tastes like a dinosaur. (In fact, it's actually pretty bland, but the name makes it exciting.)

Despite it's lack of great taste, the flavor is still AMAZINGLY popular with our boys. After all, what boy wouldn't want to eat a purple dinosaur?

About this time last year, we went to Bruster's with our friend Rosi and her family. Big Brother was very proud and excited about his Purple Dinosaur cone. He went to sit on a (NARROW) bench to enjoy his cone, when he proceeded to fall over backwards (from a distance of about 2 feet) and hit the back of his head on the concrete.

He cried immediately and didn't lose consciousness. Within 5 minutes, he was eating his ice cream and happily running around, giggling, and playing with Rosi's daughter.

When we got home about an hour later, it was bedtime. Big Brother seemed a little tired, but he hadn't napped that day. We started to get him ready for his bath.

Mom-E asked if there was anything that we should watch for with Big Brother. I no sooner uttered the word "vomiting" than a stream of "Purple Dinosaur" came spewing out of his mouth.

This bought us a late-night trip to the ER for a head CT. Fortunately, Big Brother was just fine (Okay, if just fine means he screamed hysterically and had to be held down by me for the head CT, but was calmly watching Thomas and Friends the rest of the time in the exam room).

Big Brother still talks about the time when "the purple ice cream came out of my mouth."

We went back to Bruster's the other day for the first time since the famed incident. Amazingly, Big Brother wanted another Purple Dinosaur cone. (You'd think that after what happened the last time, he'd have a conditioned response not to eat one of those things.)

Instead, Big Brother calmly enjoyed his ice cream started running around like a wild man the moment the sugar hit his bloodstream.

Dad-E calmly enjoyed his ice cream freaked out about Big Brother's every move. "No, he can't sit on the bench. He might fall again." "No, he can't play hopscotch on the grass because there are 3 manhole covers, and he might fall and hit his head on one of them." "NO MORE HEAD CT's PEOPLE!"

"HE JUST NEEDS TO STAND PERFECTLY STILL AND EAT HIS ICE CREAM OR HE'LL RUN IN FRONT OF A CAR."
(Sure, tell that to a 4 year-old.)

Or, I just needed to take a "chill pill."

We also got Little Brother a Purple Dinosaur cone.

Little Brother calmly enjoyed his ice cream sucked the cone till it was flimsy, had purple ice cream smeared all over his face (and hair and hands and shirt, and my shirt, and Mom-E's shirt), all while I'm holding him.

We couldn't keep the napkins coming fast enough.

Again, I thought another one of those neon signs was appearing over my head. "I can multitask. Just not now."

We took a picture of his shirt, which actually made him look like a purple dinosaur. Hope you enjoy it.


And so, the Legend of the Purple Dinosaur lives on.

Live long and eat ice cream (without having to go to the ER).
(And buy stock in Shout.)

Cheers,
Busy-Dad-E