Parenting, for me, includes more situations resembling contract negotiations than I’d like to admit. Some days my head hurts too much to be all “my way or the highway” with my kids, so I attempt to negotiate rather than beg. Perhaps the key word is “attempt”. Yesterday was a negotiation day. Because I had to run to the grocery store with Littlest. I attempted to sweeten the deal.
Me: “All we need are four things. Just four. Carrots, cabbage, a birthday card, and half-and-half. Easy-peasy, lemon squeezey.”
Littlest: “You’re sure?”
Me: “Of course I’m sure. Just those four things! Come on, it’ll be fun. Like a scavenger hunt!”
You know, somedays the news is just so not worth reading. People dying, crazy weather patterns, the economy tanking, and apparently now, evidence that I have just screwed the pooch – again. According to some yahoos down under in the land of kangaroos, eating sugar pretty much guarantees you are going to be in trouble. They’ve found that a “hit of sugar” changes the cellular memories for up to two weeks.
This is bad news. Very bad. I mean, it’s like our bodies react to sugar like they do to street drugs. Hell, since I love to bake and I do all the shopping, that means I’m like a drug cartel, mule, dealer and junkie all wrapped up in a Hershey bar loving addict.
Houston, we have a problem.