My oldest daughter, Kandy, was on spring break a couple of weeks ago. She and my youngest have separate breaks so Kandy and I got to spend some fun time together. One morning we went to the park and I walked while she rode her bike. Afterwards, we headed to the grocery store, both in a good mood.
She said, “Mommy can I get something at the store that I don’t usually get to have?”
I said, “Like what?”
“I don’t know yet,” she said. “When I see it I’ll know.”
So, I said yes. I now see she how she took full advantage of my good mood. At the store we were up and down the aisles, gathering everything on my list. We ended up on an aisle with all the Little Debbie snack foods: powdered and chocolaty donuts, cream-filled oatmeal cookies, tubes of cake covered in pink coconut. Kandy pipes up, “Like this, Mommy, can I have this?” She held up a box of Little Debbie cupcakes.
I sighed. “Kandy, really?” I said.
“Please, Mommy, just this once.” At that moment, I had a flashback of my childhood: I was my mom and Kandy was me. I begged for Cookie Crisp cereal, made the same pleas Kandy was making now. The desire, the disappointment when I was told no. I took the box and dropped it in the basket, muttering, I can’t believe I am buying this crap.
We were happy. We checked out and on the way to the car she asked, “Can we have one now?” It was like she had some treasure and couldn’t wait to taste it.
Now, I feel I must state for the record that I am by most measures, not ultra “granola” with my kids. I do try to limit their sugar and sweets and we don’t do candy. Also, with Kassi’s speech and autism related issues we are on a no wheat no dairy diet. We don’t eat a lot of junk food. But here, compared with most of my friends, I am sort of “granola”.
I was feeling rebellious. Indulgent. We ate one right there in the parking lot. I think Kandy felt a little like Charlie from Willie Wonka when he first opened the chocolate bar and stuffed it in his mouth. Me, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had a Little Debbie cupcake. I used to love that kind of thing, but I didn’t trust my memory of what it would taste like. I chewed.
“Oh, Kandy,” I said.
“What?”
“This might be the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.”
She smiled knowingly. “I know,” she said.
Fast forward to dinner that night. At the table and my husband asked, “Did you girls have fun today? What did you do?”
Barely looking up from her plate, Kandy said, “Mom bought me some crap at the grocery store.”
I looked up. “What did she say?”
Kirk smiled. “What you think she said.”
Katelyn was trying hard not to laugh because she wasn’t sure if she should – yet. Then I busted out laughing. Kandy looked up. “What?” she said. “You did. You know–those little cupcakes?”
“I know. I was just trying to save the last of that crap for us.”
And so I did. After dinner, the whole family enjoyed a little crap for dessert.
