forbidden fruit

I try to feed my children healthy food.  I do.  I try.  I don’t always succeed.  And I will be the first to admit that my second child has been introduced to many more “junky” things than his sister was at this age.

The other day Maggie called to me that Nick was doing something dangerous and I needed to come quickly.  So I did.

He was, in fact, doing something dangerous.  I helped him down from the pickle he was in (involving stairs and an extra part that juts out) and then noticed something peculiar.

Both kids had orange around their mouths.  And their fingers were orange too.

After a quick survey of the room, I noticed a bag of Doritos on the floor in the middle of the room.


My children aren’t allowed to eat Doritos.  Anything that leaves such an orange film on fingers and mouths is just screaming artificial colors, among other things.

Now, that said, on a very rare occasion, I have been known to eat a Dorito, or twelve hundred.  These Doritos were purchased by my husband and were leftovers from a tailgate that he provides for his customers.

(This was supposed to be  a quick funny little ditty, and is turning into a defense of why I don’t let the kiddos eat Doritos.  Not my intention.)

So Maggie knows they are busted.

“Mom!  Nick shoved them in my mouth,”  she said.

OK, that made me laugh out loud.

“Mom, I had seven and he had, like, 100,” she said.

Again, laughter from me.  So I got the kids cleaned up, got the Doritos put away, and we got ready for dinner.

If we bring the forbidden fruit into the house, we should expect it to be eaten.  Guess I better work on getting rid of those Doritos.


2 responses to “forbidden fruit

  1. Doritos are like crack. Enough said. I better get to a meeting.

  2. Ditto Gigi.

    Love it.

    My daughter had never even tasted chocolate (or anything much sugar-laden, really) until she potty-trained and received M&M’s.

    Not so much with her sugar-a-holic brothers. Ugh.

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