The oblivion of little children can be astonishing. How many times have we all had a kid wailing in mortal sorrow because they’ve looked everywhere and still can’t find their stuffie…the one they almost stepped on as they came running to you? Or of course the classic, when they pick the quietest moment in church to loudly share some socially awkward observation. They might think that a spoonful of salt is going to be so tasty, that that hen really wants to be petted, or that it makes sense to put the diapers in the sink. 

But at other times, they prove incredible perception beyond their years. Kids can hear the tiniest crinkle of a candy wrapper at 100 yards, can sniff out which ladies have snacks in their purses, can assess with cool confidence which parent to approach with a certain request, and can feel how many more minutes until we give up on naptime happening today. 

It was the latter type of situation that caught my attention this week (although let’s be honest, the oblivion is too common to be very notable except in the most glaring instances). Kiah’s ability to perceive the environment was quite a surprise to me; as we like to say, I’m not even mad, I’m just impressed. 

The kids and I were finally getting home after a long afternoon spent in doctors’ offices and winding hallways and waiting rooms. Kiah had leaned back in her chair while playing PlayDoh, toppling to the floor; a day of whimpering and barely using her left arm seemed suspicious, especially knowing her pain tolerance tends to be pretty high. X-ray showed she sustained a buckle fracture to her shoulder — although fortunately neither misalignment nor need for surgery or casting, just a tiny little sling to support her arm. 

Which, naturally, she is delighted to wear at all times. 

So by evening when we finally piled out of the van and into the kitchen, we all needed a little pick-me-up. Kiah went straight to the freezer, begging for a popsicle, her standard snack. I opened the freezer, prepared to reach for any of the multitude of ziplock bags holding various flavors of homemade popsicles, from strawberry milk to peach chia yogurt to raspberry. She is currently obsessed with anything purple, so I was assuming her choice would be one of the purple ones. 

But no, Ki immediately pointed straight to the only storebought popsicle we have. To my knowledge, she has never had a “real” popsicle at our house. I have no idea how she even knew it was in there, not to mention that now was the exactly right time to ask for it. Any other day, I would have told her no, we were saving it for a special reward, but somehow she knew today I would give her mostly whatever she wanted. Girl, your arm is broken, have The Mango Popsicle. 

Unfortunately, her perspicacity hasn’t extended to proper consideration for broken bone recovery, and I have to keep reminding her that now is not the best time for wrassling and climbing. Bless your heart, child, just take another purple popsicle and please go sit down. 

A Peck of Purple 

Popsicles

I have to be constantly replenishing our stash of popsicles, and right now purple is the “flavor” of choice. I’ve mentioned before that if I freeze it, my kids will eat it in peaceful oblivion, but these easy treats should be well received even if your family is a bit more discerning. As I find happens so often, my kids have a sixth sense about what I’m writing on, and I had to stop typing to go get them, without any prompting from me, purple popsicles. 

Prep tips: a simple popsicle mold makes quick work of this, but small paper cups or popsicle bags work too. 

• 2 cups plain yogurt

• 4 ounces frozen grape juice concentrate

• ½ cup purple fruits, finely chopped: blueberries, blackberries, grapes

• splash of vanilla

• optional: 1 T blackberry jam or chia seeds

Whisk all ingredients together, and pour into popsicle molds; freeze. 

Lettuce Eat Local is a weekly local foods column by Amanda Miller, who lives on the family dairy farm with her husband and two small children. She seeks to help build connections through food with her community, the earth, and the God who created it all. Contact her at hyperpeanutbutter@gmail.com.