A Remarkable Combination of Geriatric and Sweet

I have no idea how this routine started in our household, but Sophia helps me take my metamucil every day.

I started drinking it when married because Sophia'sDaddy drinks it for the heart benefits (only to be had from the powder form, not the capsules). Well, I struck out on my own and realized I didn't have to take metamucil if I didn't want to! So I stopped doing it.

But then my pooper started...well...stopping.

So out came the metamucil again, though lordy, I hate the graininess and the faux-orange flavor. I have committed myself to drinking it so I get the heart benefits, too, even though I really just want the help with the plumbing.

So when I take this and Sophia's with me, it's her job to scoop a spoonful out of the canister and plop it in the cup of water. Then she sits on the counter and smiles while I chug and make faces. We always have this conversation right after the last swallow (when I'm trying hard not to yak):

Sophia: You no like it? It yucky?
Me: No, it's yucky. (dry heave)
Sophia (helpfully): Daddy like it.
Me: I know he does. Daddy is crazy.
Sophia: *I* like it.
Me: You've never had it, but I'm sure (gag) you'll love it when you do.
Sophia: When I get bigger to the sky like you, I drink it FOR you.

So it makes the disgusting gloppiness go down just a little easier to know that my three-year-old would gladly take a medicinal bullet to spare her mother...