Santa Claus brought my children the most delectable big red lollipops with teddy bears painted in icing on the front. He always brought them to me when I was a kid, and now he brings them to my children. They are every kids’ dream–the kind they go to bed dreaming of on Christmas Eve. But they are also every parent’s nightmare.
I felt a knot in my stomach the moment I saw them sticking out of the kids’ stockings. I have developed quite a distaste for anything with refined sugar, esPECIALLY if it is hard, laced with red dye, and stuck on a giant stick. The deadly combination of such atrocities is enough to send any parent into complete revolt.
Let’s start with the sugar. Sugar rots teeth. I know this very intimately, because I paid the dental bill after a trip to a far-away city for fillings under general anesthesia for my uncontrollable three-year-old. And we brush. Not only that, but one iota of sugar makes either of my children go absolutely ballistic. As if we need any help with that. Have you ever seen my two-year-old in action on nothing but an empty stomach? I recently discovered that her Sunday school teachers designate one adult to shadow Hunter every Sunday because she is so wild. They wonder how I do it at home!
And lastly in my case against sugar, it spoils appetites! I do not need any help convincing my picky eaters not to eat their meals. Hunter only eats peanut butter, breads, and fruit as it is. Add some pure sugar to the diet, and what then will I feed her?
So, if you took the sugar out of lollipops, what then would we have? Red dye. Scientifically proven to initiate hyperactivity. Enough said.
And the cute little stick? Paired with a large sticky object, it becomes nothing but a tool which my two-year-old can wield to make a BIG, STICKY mess.
On Christmas morning I hid the darling lollipops in the mantle decor hoping they would be forgotten. But when I was cleaning house this afternoon, I couldn’t handle their being out of place. So I stopped the procrastination and put them in plain view in the kitchen. I figured it was now or never. When is there ever a good time to drink disaster upon oneself? If I was tough enough, I would have just thrown the dern things away. But I, like every endearing parent out there, want my children to enjoy the fantasy of their childhood. So when they both ate all their dinner, they got to choose between a brownie that was still in the oven or the lollipop that Santa’s elves made at the North Pole.
Relieved to be finally ridding my house of the big sticky nightmares, I happily let the children tear into their lollipops while stuck to their chairs at the table. It was so cute to see the icing smeared all over their faces, particularly Hunter’s, that I started snapping pictures. And then I got so caught up admiring them on the camera, deleting the bad ones, and laughing at what a good time they were having, that I forgot to guard Hunter like the end was near. I looked up from the camera as I heard, “SMASH SMASH SMASH!” and little slivers of red sticky lollipop went flying.
{Let’s pause for a moment of silence to reflect on the monstrosity of the situation. Special note: I cleaned the house today.}
The kitchen is now cleaned up, but I’m still paying the price for that little slip of sanity, because my kids are running around the house like wild dogs. I must now retreat to the bathroom to fill a tub with water so that we can throw bubbles all over the clean bathroom. Maybe after bathtime I can upload the pre-disaster pics I shot.
