The Great Ketchup Outrage

Olivia attended a baseball game with her school yesterday. Yes, the entire elementary school went to the game. They piled seven grades (kinderkids through six graders) onto several buses and then corralled them into the ballpark. My admiration for elementary school teachers just grows and grows.

When she got home, Tom asked Olivia what she had for lunch.

She told him, “They gave us hot dogs, chips and juice.”

“Did you eat your hot dog?” he asked her.

“No,” she replied.

“Why?” he wanted to know.

“Because it was in a bun,” she told him quite primly.

From my nest on the couch where I was trying to sleep off the fatigue that apparently comes with pneumonia, I snorted a laugh and reminded her, “You know, you could have taken the hot dog OUT of the bun and eaten it, right?”

She shrugged and bounded toward me. “Do you think they let the kids have ketchup and mustard with their hot dogs?” she asked, suddenly very excited.

Even though I knew the answer, I gave her the one I knew she wanted me to give. “Of course they let the kids have ketchup and mustard.”

“No!” she declared. “They did not! They actually gave some kids some ketchup and then they TOOK IT AWAY!”

“Why?” I asked because this narrative was too fascinated to drop.

“I don’t know but they wouldn’t let anyone have ketchup or mustard.”

“Well, you don’t even like ketchup or mustard,” I reminded her. “Why did you care that no one else got it?”

She shrugged again and said, “I don’t but some of the other kids were really mad that they couldn’t have ketchup with their hot dogs. I just like my chips. They were barbeque flavored.”

“Oh, those are my favorite!” I told her.

She grinned and then went out to tell Tom she had homework because she’d forgotten to bring her sheet home the day before.

That kid…she’s always so full of stories and injustices and even if those injustices don’t actually affect her directly, she’s all about reporting on them, doing her best to generate great public indignation over the lack of ketchup and mustard on those hot dogs. She’s watching out for the little guy, I tell you.