I have discovered that when people think about being a parent, they come up with a mental list of things they will never do or say when raising their kids. When people actually have a child this list tends to shorten, and shorten, and… shorten until the only items on the list include #27 - Don’t feed That Baby hot dogs and #1 - Don’t be abusive (really kind of an item that shouldn’t need to be listed but is listed just to keep accountability). Bad things on my list included toaster waffles, frozen chicken strips, and instant oatmeal. But I gave in! I couldn’t help myself! I am lazy, I am an incompetent mother - crucify me! Maybe I am just too tired to make my own waffles and chicken strips! I don’t have the patience to make oatmeal. Maybe I don’t know how! But, but… haven’t other children had these things to eat? Did they survive? Are they in weight loss counseling centers learning how to change their life and eat right for a change? That Baby seems to be faring alright even with the toaster waffles and frozen chicken strips. But, maybe that is why he stinks so much… Hmmmm.

If I only had me to answer to, that would be fine. But parents never only have themselves to answer to. There are always so many other people who want to get involved. People who didn’t actually waddle around for nine agonizing and uncomfortable months to finally give birth to That Baby. People who get to leave after they have spent “quality” time with That Baby, and go home to peace and quiet and just possibly, other adults.

I was raised the daughter of hippies. We NEVER ate chicken strips and toaster waffles didn’t exist. It wouldn’t have mattered since toasters require electricity to work and apparently hippies can’t be bothered with electricity, or running water. We ate rice cakes, tofu and veggie tacos. Yummy.

Now, enter That Baby’s grandmother (my ex-hippy mother)…. who joined me at the grocery store recently. As I stocked up on boxes of toaster waffles with blueberries (blueberries are good for you, right?) I glanced at my mother who looked like her upper lip smelled.

Me: What?
Mom: What What?
Me: Why do you look like something smells funny?
Mom: I just never fed you that stuff?
Me: (really asking for it now) What stuff?
Mom: That fake food! (Hmph!)

FAKE FOOD? What the hell is “Fake Food?” This food exists! I can even touch it. What the HELL!!!? Don’t help lady! Grrrrr!