Every time we prepare to leave the house, Ryan launches into an existential crisis, which seems rooted in the idea that there is no food outside of our apartment, and if we don't bring all possible food choices with us, he will starve to death while we're at the park. Usually, his list of demands is:
"Milk! Juice! Fruit bar!"
I assure him that there is a fruit bar and some juice in my bag, he whimpers doubtfully, and we're on our way.
Yesterday, his emergency planning was more involved:
"Milk! Juice! Banana! Fruit bar! Grapes!"
I told him there were snacks in my bag.
"Fruit bar and rectangle cheese and GRAPES!!!"
Yes, yes, yes dear.
He cried and chanted variations on this list all the way down in the elevator, all the way to the garage, truly in a panic. I gave him some juice in the car to quiet him down.
Little did he know, all I had in my bag was an apple and some gluten-free pretzels.