Radix malorum non cupiditas est (quod ille ignoscens in fabulis Canterburiensibus Chauceronis dicit) sed Pisces Suecici.
In other words, the reason (on top of post-hurricane-ness and change of season-ness and anxiety and something of a cold) Charlie ended up with three incident reports in four days (Wednesday, Friday and Tuesday) in which it was noted that he was especially, intensely fierce was (well, for the latter two reports) that, last Thursday morning due to a delayed opening of his school due to the nor'easter's snow and us three going first to Jersey City to retrieve the black car from a snowy parking lot and driving it all the way out to the Jersey 'burbs and Jim and Charlie stopping in a bagel place while I got gas for the white car because it was an even day, Charlie nervously grabbed and ate a pack of Swedish Fish.
I might as well have given him a pack of glue pieces.
He had a period a few years ago -- when we were still watching his gluten and dairy intake (we still watch the latter in particular) and he and I would take the PATH train from Journal Square into Manhattan to meet Jim at his office -- of going for the yellow packs of red gummy candies in the racks at Hudson News, along with a 'green drink' (aka a Sprite). Little did it occur to us that they were probably at least one source of major bellyaching. I suspect Charlie just chewed the fish enough to swallow them and then had colossal stomach pain for days after, with attendant behavioral storming, gummy candies gumming up a system already prone to, ah, doing just that,
Tuesday evening, after a long talk on my way home with his teacher, Charlie's thymic distress was greatly alleviated and such it was that I had to dig out this trusty device bought for me by my dad a few years ago when I found myself using it routinely (you think we would have said, now there's a problem here). The device, and a plunger, was most effective and Charlie slept from about 7 till 10 pm and woke up troubled, with more stomach pain. He worked it through after demanding, more and more intensely, that we take him somewhere for a burrito (as you can guess, telling him 'you already had dinner' and 'it's too late' didn't exactly assuage him). Eventually, as he was getting calmer, I made a pot of rice and Charlie started smiling and ate it and some apples.
Wednesday was a far better day at school, with Charlie being able to work through being upset without extra staff having to be requested when his teacher could see his anxiety escalating. At home, a Dadless afternoon and evening due to Jim teaching late started with me having to use the plunger (but not the other device) again. By 7.30, after a ride to a nearby town that started with Charlie calling for fast food then saying no to it, then saying 'no home' as I drove home, then suddenly saying 'home,' he wanted Jim.
I've been wary of using the timer ever since, some Wednesdays ago, I turned it on and Charlie hit his head on the wainscoting about three minutes afterward. He was ok with it last night and spent the hours walking through the house, watching me make a crumb cake (Charlie has had a past fixation with Saran-wrapped chunks of such found in Jersey stores) from a mix (I have a fixation with 'making it from scratch' but why not a mix with a photo on the box to show Charlie what it would make, and that other things can be made from with that are not red and not brownies) and a bowl of rice, which he eagerly ate after it had cooled. The cake baking made the house smell very good though of course the cake, in its crumminess, would get dropped in the oven (don't ask) and Charlie liked checking in on my activities in a warm and cozy kitchen.
And, what with Jim rushing to the subway and the trains being on a different post-hurricane schedule, he got home early, while the timer still had some 25 minutes to go.