Throw Up...Fruit Punch...Headache; Not in that order

Chiara arrived on Wednesday. That night, Turner is doing his best to busy himself at Chiara's side, unwilling and unable to remember his need to relieve himself. As he bounces, dances, sways, and does all that he can to keep his body in motion - the medicine to deter urination - I try to cajole him into the bathroom. Finally he relents, after apt pushing from his pal Chiara, and rushes to the potty. The trinkle comes quickly and extends for an entire minute. He comes rushing out the bathroom, shorts turned a bit to one side, light still on, toilet unflushed. "Did you flush the toilet, Turner?" I remind him.
"Ohh, Ummm. No."
"Can you go flush the toilet and wash your hands?" He and I go back and forth as I try to convince him that washing hands is not an option, not a bargain, and certainly not a negotation. "Turner, you must wash your hands and flush the toilet. We are all waiting for you. No one is going anywhere." He turns and slowly slides his feet the well-lit bathroom. "Make sure you makes lots of bubbles."
"Oh, come on now," he yells from the bathroom, "you guys are giving me a headache already."
* * * * *
I worked Friday so Turner and Chiara were left to their own devices for the day. They went to the park. Fed ducks. Swang. Slid. Then they went to lunch at a nice spot that Turner calls "Chicks Filet." The line was long so Turner played on the big jungle gym. Finally it was time to order food. They get in line and Chiara orders Turner chicken nugget kid's meal.
"What to drink? Milk, fruit punch..." and some other options I'm sure the service clerk helpfully offered.
Chiara orders him fruit punch.
Turner says, "My mom makes me drink milk."
"Well, I can get you milk. I just thought you would like fruit punch."
"Let me try it."
"Ok."
Turner takes a sip of the sugary water tinged red. "Mmmm. I like fruit punch!" Yep. Of course he does. So they finish lunch without incident. The two return to the jungle gym to play some more. As they approach the room where the gym is, Turner passes a table with a small person his size who is drinking milk. He passes the table. Stops. Turns back and tells the small kid in a great big kid who is very excited voice, "I got fruit punch!" Then he turns on his heels as though he was simply offering the other child hope for the future, and Turner opens the door to the gym area.
* * * * *
We are in the desert. It is hot here. I say things I shouldn't. Turner repeats them. :)
Turner is on the front stoop with Chiara. She is learning Turner's viewpoint on life. He is getting to share his wisdom. Then he turns to Chiara and says, "It's hot out here. It makes me wanna throw up." She laughs of course. Then I step onto the stoop. She tells me the story, and I am ashamed of myself because I too often say that in front of Turner. I mean, seriously, it is really, really hot here, and I just need a new way to discuss it.
"Makes me want to throw up."