“Put it back.”
“You don’t need it.”
“How did that get in the cart?!”
Sometimes conversations with my kids, when we’re in the supermarket, can be mostly one-sided. I say that because their responses to my answers, when they are in the mood for junky stuff, are not always intelligible as actual words. Not that their tones might not be recognized as pleading, whines, or whatever that “Ptah!” thing is that they do.
Sometimes it’s all part of the same conversation, picking up again every couple of minutes. Their method involves lots of hard lobbying and surly looks. I feel like Goldfinger listening to James Bond argue that I need not chop him in half with my laser. I’m almost certain some image like it runs through their minds, too.
Being a super-villain is sometimes part of my fatherhood deal. Without enforcing the rules, I invite trouble. Then everything else, like planning dinners or picking where to eat, gets that much harder.
It is fun, though, to hear what they lobby for, such as:
- Plantain chips
- Ice cream
- Frozen pizza (OK, sometimes I actually give on this one)
- Cereal colored in shades that don’t appear in nature
- Candy guaranteed to get caught in braces
- Anything in the store flavored with sour cream and onion
And on and on. It happens in nearly every aisle. Except, of course, in produce, when I get mostly questions about where the snack aisle is.
It can all mean longer trips, forgetting things we actually need, and higher blood pressure.
I often wonder if it’s worth the hassle. Probably. I’m still responsible for what they eat, and I do prefer to set a good example. It’s usually just a lot of noise, anyway; one of those issues that patience usually solves.
Patience, and witty retorts like “No, Mr. Bond, I expect you to eat broccoli!”
As if good guys don’t eat vegetables.