Konsumption Karma

I just finished traveling with my ten year old Justin. I should just call him “Karma.”

I cannot believe how many things he does that duplicate the way I behaved when I was a boy. The man upstairs, who sometimes I think might be operating from “downstairs,” must be playing jokes on me. Maybe the Big “G” was in the front row one night and I offended him? Should I have yelled out a “Gosh Darn” when I slammed my hand in the door, instead of “damning” the moment?

All the torture I put my mom through is coming back to haunt me. How many times I refused to eat the food that was put on my plate is not able to be calculated, even with my mother trying her best to please me and my fickle taste?

I did all the things mom asked me not to do:

I “played” with my food. I wasted food. I freaked out if certain foods touched other foods on the plate. I ate tons of sweets and did not brush my teeth unless I was under heavy coercion and threats from my mother. I refused vegetables unless it was creamed corn or mashed potatoes with gravy. The only green that passed my lips was a lime “Juijy Fruit.”

I drove my mother crazy. “Mom, I see a piece of onion in the meatball! I told you no onions! I’m not eating!” The invading piece of herb was so small, today I would need a bifocal to see it, but that did not prevent me from discarding the entire ball of beef that was now in several scattered morsels around my plate.

Of course, I never TRIED the onion to know if I hated it, even with mom begging me to simply taste it before judgment.

What goes around comes around…

Now, it is I who is in the position of being logical about my son’s contempt of most foods before investigation. Here I am in a bad flashback, using the same tactics my mother used to get a simple bite out of my malnourished kid.

“Here comes the airplane, open up the hangar” is not a method for a pre teen. I even pulled out the: “There are starving children in (fill in latest place)” line on him. Apparently, I have become a caricature of a parent and will end up in Justin’s comedy routine. I’m sure “because I said so” is coming soon.

The rub is, I am a concerned parent and I want my kids to practice healthy eating, knowing it will lead to him being well and strong.

As an adult I eat pretty balanced meals and look at nutrition as being essential to happiness. I recently completed a liver cleanse and am eating more vegetables and less processed sugar. I take an amazing nutritional supplement resulting in a teen-like energy, mental clarity and physical fitness I haven’t felt in years.

I had no idea how much sugar can affect your entire being, and this comes from a guy who grew up writing to cookie and beverage companies to suggest new flavors and brand names. I sent letters to Kool Aide to suggest “Ch-Ch-Chilly Cherry” and “Ramblin Raspberry” for their new lineup of powdered drink packets. I still have the letter of appreciation Betty Crocker sent me for submitting my ideas. They rewarded me with some baking recipes, which was like giving “cooking” instructions to the owner of a meth lab.

The candied apple has not fallen far from the tree. Justin is an artificial sweetener junkie.

If I ever do crave sugar again, I could use Justin’s sweat like a deer on a Salt Lick. He sweats sucrose. He consumes sugar like the “Million Dollar Baby” on a morphine drip. If by chance he forgoes sweets at his meal, he washes it all down with an artificially enhanced fruit beverage.

What’s worse is Justin’s younger brother Jared is even a more severe artificial sweetener junkie, and actually combs the neighborhood for adult “dealers” to supply him with stash. The other day Jared says: “I want a play date with Pablo.” Jared just turned five and Pablo is a 50 year old father of two teenage girls. What the hell is going on here, and what games is Pablo playing during their playtime that I’m not aware of?

I secretly followed Jared over to our next door neighbor’s home and stood in the bushes as little Jared reached up to ring the door bell. “Hi Pablo!” “Oh Jared, come on in.”

Pablo took him right to the hiding place and handed him a giant pile of assorted candies. Jared shoveled the treats as if he was having his first meal after being held in captivity. His face resembled a prism as the colors of the candy bled all over his cheeks.

But Jared (at least) eats most anything put in front of him at meal time. Justin (on the other hand) acts like he’s being water boarded if we attempt to introduce him to a different menu item. He claims ketchup to be a vegetable and cheese to be its own food group. If he had his choice, pasta with cream sauce would be every meal. I believe a colon x-ray would reveal the Pillsbury Doughboy.

I’m not quite sure how to handle it.

If I enforce my will upon him and make him eat what I tell him, I could cause “food issues,” which I hear begin in the home with the child ending up in an eating disorder clinic. Only good thing out of that is if Justin hooked up with one of the Olson twins and got us all set for life.

Or, I could just let it be and allow him to ingest whatever he chooses. Should I simply let him mange on any food he is in the mood for and let the potato chips fall where they may?

I think letting it go is probably a good road to take. If he’s anything like me, he’ll learn to eat other foods and his culinary habits will change. Life is like that. An evolution takes place, not usually on my time or how I would want it to progress, but it does keep on moving forward.

If I look at it in a positive light, he has changed his food intake some. He’s been off mushed beets and Enfamil baby formula for quite some time now.

Progress!