Charlie eats a bright, blue, sugar-coated lollipop in the shape of a baby’s pacifier. It’s so sour, your mouth twists after a lick. This is courtesy of Jake, who celebrated the birth of his son, Ryland, a little over a week ago. Congrats Jake and Kristy…
As for the bright, blue, sugar-coated binky…. Charlie says to Theo,
“Here, have a lick, Theo…”
“No!” I yell…. passionately.
“Why not?” Charlie asks.
“Because he’s a baby”
“But when we went Trick-or-Treating you held out his bag and said, ‘Candy for her little brother’. Why would you do that if he can’t eat candy?” she asks.
Frustrated, and just as confused as the four-year-old… I answer, “Because it’s for Mommy and Daddy, everyone knows that, everyone knows babies don’t eat candy.”
“Here’s the thing…. (enter rant about candy that really has to do with morals and values)… Candy is not good for you, you know that. Remember when we went to the dentist, and she said how nice your teeth are and how sugary stuff is bad for your teeth…. (I loose my train of thought as both of our eyes gloss over and thoughts of obesity and poor eating habits race through my mind and how school lunches should be better and who thought it would be a good idea to give out so much candy to children, especially the cheese curls, my daughter wouldn’t know what a cheese curl was if it weren’t for daycare)
I decided to take a different approach.
“Charlie, you eat as much candy as you can. Eat until your belly aches!” She took her pumpkin filled with candy into her room (note to self: combine all the candy into one container and put up high- melt into one big stew in spare time).
She came out after a few minutes and set the bag next to me. I began eating a Crunch bar. I really do like Crunch bars. She then wanted one. Pull it together, I tell myself. It’ll be fine. I unwrap it for her and hand it to her. I cringe. Looking back I have no idea why. What am I afraid of, that she’ll turn into a chocolate vampire and not be able to stop eating chocolate?
I think it’s more of a pride issue and I’d rather not the thought of un-doing everything I’ve worked so hard for. A little girl who really doesn’t snack on candy, chips and junk food, and will eat fruits, yogurt and cottage cheese. There’s a fine line between giving too much and giving too little and my over awareness may be on the verge of insanity. Mine, not hers.
It also stems from my own guilt of wanting to crash on the couch after school like a teenager, watch the rest of the first Twilight movie Sean (yes, Sean) taped and eat candy until he gets home to make something for dinner. This isn’t all true because I do have a roast in the crock pot and I am playing the movie while I tell Charlie to go into her room or else she’ll have nightmares. I won’t turn it off, though, not until I see what happens to these star-crossed lovers. Sean came home and said, after watching for a minute:
“This is the stupidest movie ever”
“It’s a love story, Sean, they’re in love, they can’t live without each other. It’s like us.”
The underlying tones implied here goes without saying and leaves me wondering how this movie can be appropriate for 9-year-olds who scream for these stars at movie premieres, until I remember that their mothers drove them there. It does provide nostalgia of young love, almost as much as the last time I listened to a Taylor Swift song.
In conclusion, Charlie, I love you and I love chocolate so it’s in your blood to be a chocolate-eating vampire.