A Conversation

The conversation at our house this morning circled around food. Before I even made it out of my bathroom, my daughter asked if she could have some certain cookies for her lunch.

"Grab an apple," I said.

"But I already have a yogurt and that has fruit in it."

"So?"

"That's like having two fruits."

"And the problem is...?"

She went to the pantry and dug out a container of apple sauce, which had fermented. Thankfully we tested it before she got to school.

"There's a crisper drawer full of real apples," I suggested. She rolled her eyes at me.

A few minutes later, my son said, "Mom, I need a snack for my lunch." I repeated what I had told his sister. "But I already have blueberries," was his reply.

"So?" I know I'm asking for it when I say that.

"So NOBODY ever takes two fruits in their lunch. EVERYBODY takes at least two snacks - and you're telling me I can't even have ONE?"

My reply: "First of all, you're not Donald Trump, so quit speaking in superlatives. Second of all, fruit IS a snack. What kind of snacks does EVERYONE have?"

"Fruit roll-ups, fruit by the foot, fruit snacks, chips..."

I couldn't resist. "How sad for them. There is a fridge full of REAL fruit in this house. Aren't you lucky? And when you say 'snack' you mean junk food. So ask me for junk food."

"But if I ask for junk food, you'll say NO!"

"I think you're getting it, kid."

He rolled his eyes at me and opted for a cherry yogurt.

"Why don't you ever let us have junk food?" He asked in that very whiny, spoiled-brat kind of voice that gives me immediate desires to take away all happiness forever.

"I believe you enjoyed both jolly ranchers and a fireball after school yesterday. And what about that bowl of ice cream after dinner? You get plenty without me actually giving it to you on purpose. I want you to grow up and have a long, healthy life, even if it means griping at me forever."

A pouty look was all I got in response.

"If you want to grow up and be a famous scientist/inventor, you need a good, healthy, strong brain, and fruit by the foot is not the answer."

Being the typical mom that I am, I couldn't resist one parting shot before I left for work.

"I don't think Einstein ate a single Fruit by the Foot EVER!"