More fat-free, whole-wheat, soy-cheese pizza, please!

My husband and I have very different food philosophies.  I’m always worried about what I’m eating and whether or not it’s healthy for me.  (Except for wine and tequila.  Those are God’s nectar.  The more you drink, the healthier you will be.  It’s in the Bible in the Book of Libation, chapter 3 verse 7.  Your Bible doesn’t have the Book of Libation?  Right after the Book of Revelation?  Hmm, that’s odd.  You must not have the King (Bartles &) Ja(y)mes Revised Edition.)

My husband’s philosophy is more of the, Hey, I might get hit by a truck tomorrow and I don’t want my last meal to be baked tilapia and broccoli, because when they do my autopsy I don’t want the medical examiner to be all, “Wow, look at what this emasculated, sissy boy was being forced to eat.”

So we’re always trying to maintain a balance when it comes to our kids.  I want their meals to be healthy and their snacks to be fruit-based, while he’s more of the “Pick what you want out of the pantry and put it in a bowl” kind of dad.  They like him better than they like me.

My husband has a box of junk cereal (Honey Bunches of Oats) that he keeps for his late-night snacks, and he gave The Beast a bowl of it a while back. The Beast instantly started referring to it as “cookie cereal.”  It is not shaped like cookies and there is nary a cookie on the box, yet The Beast and his virginal taste buds instantly realized that this cereal is a dessert.  My husband must now hide his cereal from The Beast.

Now, I thought that my insistence that my husband hide his cereal was a clear suggestion of the types of food that I want the kids to eat for breakfast.

In light of the following conversation my husband and I had one morning this week, he did not pick up on that clue:

Him:  Is it okay for The Beast to eat this for breakfast?  He picked it out of the pantry.

Me: It’s a chocolate-covered granola bar.  It’s oats pressed together with liquified sugar and covered in chocolate.  What part of that seems like it’s a good breakfast for a toddler?

Him:  It says it’s organic.

Me:  The bat guano we use to fertilize the lawn says it’s organic too.  You wouldn’t feed him that for breakfast, would you?  (I realize that my snarky attitude is completely hypocritical in light of the snacks I fed The Beast last week, but I was sick so you can keep your opinion to yourself.  God, you are so judgmental!)

This exchange does explain why when I’m the one that goes into The Beast’s room in the morning to get him up and feed him breakfast he cowers in the corner of his room and screams like I’m a demon-masked machete wielder.  Apparently his scream of horror sounds just like his scream of recognition that instead of a candy bar, he’s about to be fed unsweetened brown rice krispies or shredded wheat for breakfast.

One day when the kids move out of the house they can eat what they want for breakfast.  Until then, they are going to continue to eat unsweetened cardboard and learn to appreciate the joys of regularity.

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