An end-of-summer negotiation at my house went something like this:
Sadie: Mommy, can I have a cookie?
Me: You can have a cookie after dinner.
Me: Why what?
Sadie: Why do I have to wait until dinner?
Me: Because if you eat a cookie, you won’t eat as much dinner. It’s my job to be sure you keep things in balance. Cookies come after dinner. (Note: In this conversation the “cookie” refers to an organic wafer that is composed of quinoa, oats and raisins. FN 1)
Sadie: Why can’t I have a cookie right now?
Me: Have you had dinner?
Me: Well, once you have had dinner, you can have that cookie you so desperately want.
Sadie: What about a popsicle? Can I have that now?
Me: No. You can have either a popsicle or a cookie after dinner.
Sadie: Why can’t I have a popsicle right now? (Note: The “popsicle” refers to an organic fruit smoothie that I froze and put into ice trays. FN 2)
Me: Really? Are we doing this right now? You. Can. Have. A. Sweet. After. Dinner.
Sadie: How about a lollipop? (Note: The alleged “lollipop” was a sun-sweetened prune on a stick. FN 3)
Me: After dinner.
Me: Because I am ovulating, which makes me feel bloated and exhausted and unattractive.
* * * * *
FN 1: I lied. It was a Ginger Snap cookie from a giant bag. Not organic, sugar-free, gluten-free, or free-trade.
FN 2: I lied. She’s referring to a box of 40 popsicles I got at Target that are composed solely of sugar and caffeine. FN 4.
FN 3: I lied. She’s referring to the Tootsie Pop that is sitting on the counter in our kitchen.
FN 4: That was a lie; I got them at Costco. I was just trying to look more diverse.