I'm on Cape Cod with my sister, her kids and my mother. "Relax, we're on vacation," one or both of them says to me every time we serve the kids a meal. My sister lives in Boston so she stocked the kitchen with food her pre-teens eat. Kid friendly food like Fruit Loops and marshmallows and yellow cheese slices. Very generous of her, except we live in Southern California. She may as well have stocked the shelves with rat poison
"We're on vacation!" my sister said to me the first morning, handing my five year old a heaping bowl of sugar masquerading as cereal.
"Come on, Mom, my cousins are eating it!" I look over and see the tops of my niece and nephew's heads since they are both buried in their dishes. Quite a conundrum for me. If I say no, I'm insulting my sister. But if I say yes, I worry I am introducing my son to a taste treat that he'll spend the rest of his life chasing or running away from. I have. After spending the better part of my 20's subsisting on puffs, flakes and granola of sorts, with the occasional bowl of popcorn, I don't eat cereal any more at all. I am trying desperately to keep my kids from food that I became, what some might call (and they'd be right), addicted to . I'm even trying to control the ones I never cared about, like popsicles. But really, how many popsicles is too many for a thirsty, sweaty five year old? I have no idea. My son would like to eat them until popsicle juice starts dripping out his nose. Should I let him? Should I let him experience feeling sick to his stomach of crappy food so he'll come to me begging for broccoli?
"Mooooom!! Everyone is making s'mores now MOM!" Gabriel wailed after dinner that night, handing me the empty bowl of mango sorbet I served him. It's not like I think fruit sorbet is actually healthy like, say, spinach, which I am convinced he will never eat in his life, but sorbet is still better than a marshmallow chocolate sandwich at 9 o'clock at night.
"I'm sorry Ga..." but before I can finish my thought my mother says, loading a marshmallow on a stick while balancing her third glass of chardonnay,
"What's the difference? He's on vacation?!"
"Okay," I say, giving up.
Tomorrow I'm going to go to Main St. in my bra and panties, find a life guard to sleep with, and do a line of coke. After all, I'm on vacation.
Dani Klein is the mom of two boys, and the creator/producer of Afterbirth...Stories You Won't Read in Parents Magazine.
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