The Prince of Cures


It's the antidote to anger, sadness, to what ails us. As unexpected as it seems, it really works! This revolutionary cure was discovered quite by accident. My life will never be the same. 

It all started one day when I had a chocolate craving. I decided gluten-free brownies were in order, so I baked a batch. Well, it might be more accurate to say I attempted to whip up a batch. One would think that I would learn, after numerous failed attempts, that brownie baking just isn't my forte. Too crisp around the edges, the brownies were more than a little gooey in the middle. There was no saving them. 


As the "brownies" were baking, one of my children, who was having an exceptionally bad day, all but locked himself in his room. Even the prospect of brownies wasn't enough to alter his mood. Good thing, too, because what a disappointment it would have been to have his mind set on a rich, crumbly brownie only to be let down. 

Darn prednisone. Now all I can think about it brownies. I just handed the kids a box of mix and they're baking. 

But I digress.

Entering the child's room, he was unresponsive to anything I said or did. Extending my arm, I offered him a plate of brownie goo and two words, "brownie poop?" 

His face immediately, yet subtly changed. I caught a hint of a grin before his shoulders started to every-so-slightly bounce up and down. No longer able to help himself, the plate of steaming brownie poop just inches from his nose, he burst out in glorious laughter. After consuming this healing confection, good mood restored, he rejoined the land of the living. 

Fast forward a month or so and we sat in the Fellowship Hall of church before worship began. Some slight by a brother or sister combined with poor sleep the night before and an early morning concocted a sour mood in this same child. Yet again facing an unresponsive child, I spoke gently and calmly even though time was of the essence, as he was supposed to be helping with worship that morning. I started getting frustrated that he would not talk, refused eye contact, and could not seem to get enough control over his emotions to either get through them or let them go. 

Then it came to me. I placed my face directly in front of his face, took a deep breath, and with an extremely serious look on my face said those two miraculous words, "brownie poop."

He was in an acolyte robe and upstairs within minutes, just slightly peeved and equally amused that his blustery mood was squelched once again by the prince of cures, brownie poop. 

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