It’s costing me in more ways than one

The mother in me says, “don’t do it.” I can’t stop eating Ferdinand’s school snacks.
My own mother used to have the same issue at Easter, jellybean by jellybean. Sometimes she would have to go back to the drugstore to start from scratch, and there were four of us. I’m blaming it on genetics, and thankful that it’s sour cream onion chips and peanut butter corn puffs and not hard drugs. There’s always a bright side.
I could blame it on Ferdinand and tell myself that if he didn’t like the stuff I wouldn’t have to have it in the house.
I could cut him off all together. When I was a kid I brought rice cakes with sprouts and cheddar to school.
And with my own money I bought a chunk of chocolate cake with white icing and loved every bite.
Salt and heavy on the mouth appeal isn’t all Ferdinand gets in his lunch box, but it’s what he looks forward to. It’s what he’s proud of.
Carrot sticks, apple wedges, organic peanut butter on 8 seed crackers, free range chicken bacon on French sourdough, peanuts, raisins and 100% juice boxes, get eaten, but it’s the (all natural) chips, corn twists, corn puffs, and cookies that get him through.
And I know that as a cook I shouldn’t be addicted, shouldn’t be indulging myself or my kin, but the truth is, that’s my truth.

I can’t stop listening to pop either. Time’s gettin’ a little crazy. Sweet Escape, Lady Gaga, Kate Perry…You ever feel like a plastic bag? I’m just hoping I don’t start wearing the clothes. Low riding skinny jeans don’t work on a 48 year old who hasn’t done a sit up since before Madonna had surgery.

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