I Love My Kids

When I was a kid, I was allowed to eat anything and everything. I grew up on Twinkies, HoHos, Fruit Loops, Snack Pack puddings, fruit cocktail in syrup, Strawberry Quik, Kool-aid, Hi-C, you name it, I was allowed to eat and drink it.


Not just allowed, I was encouraged to eat it. We had everything in our cupboards. We were the envy of the town. We had Suzi Q's, Frosted Flakes, Fruity Pebbles, Cheetos, Fritos, and Hostess Cupcakes.


That's right, my friends, we were the envy of the town.


My kids? They are seriously deprived. Every single food item I mentioned above, they have never tried.


Never.


So last week, in another one of my diet-deprived moods, I started talking with my girls about the things I had when I was a kid that they have never tried.


And I promised to buy them a Twinkie so they could try one. They were thrilled. On several occasions since then, they have asked me, "What was the name of that food you ate when you were a kid?"


"Twinkie," I told them.


They were intrigued. They wanted to taste this elusive treat that only I had had the privilege of tasting.


So, yesterday, I bought them some Twinkies. Just a two pack. I was drooling just looking at them.


Oooh, they used to be my favorite. But I haven't had one in, oh, about 25 years. I had visions of my girls loving me forever since I allowed them to share in this unbelievable treat.


And guess what?


They didn't like them.


I mean, they didn't gag or anything while eating them (like O does when we make her eat vegetables she doesn't like), but they didn't even want to finish them.


Can you imagine?


They didn't even want to finish a Twinkie?


A Twinkie is not that big afterall. I could eat one in about, oh, one bite.


But no. They were not that interested.


Sigh.


Does this mean all that healthy food I've been exposing them to, because, let's face it, half the time they don't eat it, does this mean that all the food I've been preparing for them, all the meals I've been presenting to them, does this mean all this has paid off? Does this mean that they actually prefer "real food" to food that's been shelf-lifed to last through a nuclear holocaust?


Oh my stars.


I love my kids.


And I must be doing something right.


Pat on the back. Sigh of relief.