Tyler and Kayleigh decided to walk down to QFC yesterday and use their own money to buy snacks. I agreed, using the following points of logic:
- They are 8 & 12, and know how to cross streets properly
- QFC is a block away and the only street they need to cross has a giant crosswalk & lights
- I was walking 2 miles with my buddy Josh from our street to Deer Park in Aptos when we were 10 (a very different time, but still...)
- Sam & I have raised the kids on the concept that "snacks" means apple slices or granola bars, not donuts and Pringles
Skip ahead, to 2:15 AM, and I'm sitting on the kids' bedroom floor in my underwear, scrubbing Tyler's vomit out of the carpet while he goes back to sleep, and Kayleigh groans, "I will never eat junk food again."
It was a lesson learned the hard way, for both of them. And even as I sat scrubbing purple puke from cream-colored carpet in the wee hours, I got some perverse satisfaction that they were learning an important concept about health and moderation without me drilling it into their brains. It was the ultimate feeling of parental I Told You So without resorting to saying it aloud.
Of course, Tyler was absolutely impossible to drag out the door this morning, and ended up getting his games taken away for the second day in a row (and on the last day of school - bummer). Honestly, I don't know how someone can end up being so choosy about friggin' track pants.
Sigh. Apple slices and granola bars, anyone?