Friday, October 20, 2006

Chips and cinnamon buns


It was grandparent's day at Sophie's school. I picked her up and we spent the morning together in kindergarten. I got to share in drawing and reading and side trips to the hospitality tray where Sophie indulged in her mommy's worst nightmare: cinnamon buns. Those of you who are regular fans of my daughter's blog may remember the escapade which led to Jenn's declaration that "cinnamon buns = death". Well, that was then and this is now. I let Sophie have the forbidden fruit. She seemed none the worse for wear by noon. Of course we were in a fairly safe contained environment and I didn't have to worry about her jumping into traffic.

The teacher handed out mementos on which each child had written what they love to do with their grandparents. One kid said "go to a museum"; another wrote "read a book". Sophie wrote "eat potato chips".

I'm beginning to think I may be sending the wrong message.

Later in the day, I made a big pot of healthy chicken soup to balance out the oatmeal raisin cookies baking in the oven.

12 comments:

Simon said...

My wife and I are trying to find the balance with our kids' grandmothers and the relationship they have that is already starting to centre on food and, *gasp!*, sweets.

I'd always heard the term that children and grandparents are natural allies, but now the reality is starting to coalesce, and I'm afraid.

The Mater said...

Si, not to worry. You can condition both grandmoms ... just make sure Dec or Tav wear the t-shirt you bought from Jenn!

Seriously, you've raised a valid point. I (and your folks) have been raised in a different climate, a culture where sugar was not seen as the enemy. This is worth another essay on my blog and I will give it some thought.

Contrary said...

Thankfully, my little one does not have access to the awesome snack cabinet at Grandmommy's house. *I* do though, and let me tell you, that woman knows her junk food.

geogirl said...

I don't remember my Grandmother giving us cool snacks. She just tried to make us eat stuff like rubarb and fried okra.

(of course, now I love fried okra so I guess it worked.)

Patti McCracken said...

My Grandmother used to make us eat her potato and egg salad, which still had large chunks of the egg shells in it.

The Mater said...

Rubarb, okra and cracked-egg-shell-salads ... my word!

I think I'll pass and go raid Contrary's granny's cupboard instead.

Mama V said...

At my house, anything with orange dye was forbidden for fear of cancer. My Baba used to sneak in the odd box of Kraft dinner and then burn the box in the fireplace before my parents got home so that they would never know. And our favourite indulgence? A bag of sour cream and onion chips with a bottle of Orange pop at the park. I told my Mom about these things after Baba passed away, and found out that my Baba had managed to keep this a secret all of her life!

The Mater said...

Mama v, I like your Baba's choice of snacks. Chips and orange soda and mac and cheese ... Sophie and Hannah would have been right at home.

Tried to post at your blog but your site just wouldn't let me. Thanks for your support!

Birchsprite said...

I think that Grandmothers are there to provide a little indulgence....there is nothing more comforting than a grandmotherly snack and a big cuddle...it will heal all hurts!

The Mater said...

My dear birchsprite, you have, indeed, caught the truth of the whole dynamic.

God bless grandmoms, big and small
Some love to cook; some not at all
No matter what they feed us
Be it sweets or veggies or cheeses
It's the love behind the food
That tickles us and pleases

Dawn said...

I think it's beautiful that she picked something as ordinary as "eating potato chips." It means you are present in her ordinary moments. That's why you moved, yes?

The Mater said...

Dawn, what a lovely and comforting thought. Thanks.