Children of the Corn

So much has happened since the last blog I'm not going to even attempt to write about it all in detail, but I'll have to give some cliff's notes, and try my best to get on here more often. Since last time I was here, Sam put a shiny black bead up his nose - so far up, as a matter of fact, that we had to go to two different doctors before we could get it removed... I had so many catering gigs crammed into one month that I racked up a pretty decent $4482.00 food bill (wholesale, mind you) and actually lost a wheel of brie somewhere (seriously, no idea where it is... a whole wheel), plus, I wore Kate down to a little nub, and she actually crashed and left work today because she felt so beat up - haven't heard from her since, getting a little concerned ... Lily learned to sing "Bad Day" along with Sam, and asks me to play it every time we get into the car... and to finish up a seemingly endless stream of work, Sam (who must have sensed my stress level) decided that eating duck feces might be a good idea.
Should I elaborate? Sure, why not. I had Saturday morning off, and we decided to go to a craft fair at a farm in Media. We crafted, bought a couple of goofy things, then decided to have some lunch and sat down at a picnic table conveniently located next to the duck cages at the petting zoo. After a surprisingly bee-free lunch, I decided to be Elvis and buy a deep fried oreo... little sidebar, by the way, if you ever get the chance you absolutely must have a deep fried oreo. They'll shorten your life by a bit, but are well worth it... Anyway, I walked over to the fryin' vat, and as I'm waiting for my little bit of heaven to come out of the oil, I see Sara freaking out by the picnic tables. Apparently, while I was gone, Sam walked up to the duck cages, saw some corn on the ground, and even though he refuses to eat anything I make for him, decided to pick it up and eat it.
Yeah. Good job, buddy. The only thing I could really even think to say was just that too - "you won't eat anything we give you, but you eat corn out of a duck cage?" So after a call to poison control and a looooong not soon to be forgotten discussion about what things go in your mouth, all is well. On the plus side, there are only a limited number or orifices left for him to stick something in, so we should only have a few of these discussions left...
The creepy thing is (speaking of corn) since I've been ignoring the yard while I've been working, we actually started to grow corn in our lawn. Real honest to god corn, with ears and everything. No idea where it came from, but it does make the house look pretty halloween-y, so I'm letting it go. As long as Sam doesn't stick it somewhere, that is.