Thursday, November 01, 2007

Candy Police

Jake came home last night with a mountain of candy. Actually, not nearly as much as some of his counterparts, because he's the sensible type of kid that just announces he's had enough and heads for home. Still, the biggest bowl in my house is up to the brim with all sorts of sugary goodness.

What do you do with the candy?

Some people I know throw most of it out. Some have the "candy fairy" visit, who turns the candy into toys. Others make their kids share it with them. There are those in the "give it to them, insist they eat it all over a few days, and just get it over with" camp, and others in the "dole it out a bit at a time" camp.

We have always been a "control it like it's crack and only let him eat small amounts at a time so it lasts until next Halloween" type of family. I blame this on Hubs because I, having grown up in the 70s, was raised in a more "let them just eat it all" family.

Hubs, being the older "been there done that" parent still talks with fondness over how he never allowed his daughter to eat any type of candy. EVER. No chocolate, no ice cream, no cookies. There was black licorice and I've heard stories about some weird seaweed gummy things. Other then that, nothing sugary passed her lips. And I, he says, let Jake eat entirely way too much. Too much being any candy at all.

Every once in awhile my Hubs, who eats the very same cookies and brownies as the rest of us, gets on a tirade about sugar, calories, and the state of the garage. Which is sorta funny because compared to anyone else I know, we are health crazies. I mean geez, how many people eat veggie burgers and never partake in fast food?

Please. I mean, life is too short to never enjoy chocolate occasionally. And the junk in the garage is all his, anyway. So just GET OVER IT, right?

One night when Hubs had a particularly bad day, he launched into a 20 minute tirade on sugar.

"MY daughter never had it."
"Well YOUR kid was deprived."

It resulted in me hacking open a tiny pouch of fuzzy peach slices, and calculating the calories.
"Are you saying that the world is going to end over 30 measly calories in FIVE candies? That he eats maybe once every MONTH?"

End of discussion.

So today when Jake eyed that massive bowl overflowing with sugary goodness and asked to partake, imagine his shock when I pushed the whole thing towards him and the conversation went like this:

Me: "Here. Just get rid of it." (please just eat it so I won't be stealing it when you're in bed)
He wasn't quite sure what I meant.
Jake: " many can I have?" (I need the numbers here lady, so I don't get into trouble)
Me: "What do you think?" ( do I care how much you have? No. You're almost 12. Police yourself!)
Jake: "Maybe....two?" (start low...maybe she'll say more. Not too high though, this could be a trick.)
Me: "Jake, have as many as you want, as long as you don't spoil your dinner. I trust you. You're in grade 7, which is certainly old enough to be figuring out how much candy to eat. Do what you like."


He looked at me as if my head had just spontaneously erupted into flames.

"Won't Dad" he gingerly selected two small candies from the bowl and looked around suspiciously as if the candy police were going to pounce any second and announce that he must "PUT DOWN THE CANDY" because "WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED."

"What?" I snorted as I grabbed the bowl from him," Eat more! Eat it! Just get rid of it!" He began to giggle as mini chocolate bars came flying in his direction.

Again with the look that "aliens have abducted my Mom and replaced her with this awfully strange, candy crazed replacement."

"This is really weird," he commented as he unwrapped a Tootsie roll. THREE. He ate THREE.

"Just don't tell Dad, okay?"

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