I am at risk of losing my children---maybe taken by authorities or to an early grave.
As you know, my children are Dunkyn and Dolan. Smokey and I were debating this morning whether having twelve children or twelve Corgis would be more conducive to a good and happy life. He decided that if it were four, we should choose children. If it were twelve we should choose Corgis. I decided that either way, there would be a lot of poop. But seriously, can you imagine waking up, opening your bathroom door to the rush of twelve Corgis scampering about, their fox ears trembling in anticipation of the first morning petting, their nubbin tails ferociously waddling back and forth in their compulsive love of you? How wonderful!
I may never have that joy as I am becoming an increasingly bad parent. While I never buy the topmost quality of dog food, as it is about sixty bucks a bag, I do buy good dog food—with meat being the top most ingredient, typically lamb. I read the labels of dog food with more attentiveness than I do my own. Last night, due to money and to location, I bought a bag that is ten dollars cheaper for the same amount of what I usually get. The main ingredients? Wheat and animal fat. The boys, of course, LOVE it! It’s doggy fast food after all. I’m sure the amount of diarrhea on our walk this afternoon will be staggering.
I felt the smallest bit hypocritical after judging one of my student’s parents all day. The kid always brings a huge bag of chips to school. A new one ever day. Really? When the mother dropped off the lunch yesterday, I thought I take a look and see what my student was going to partake. A bag of fried chips and a bag of beef jerky. I nearly went back and confronted her on how she takes care of her kid, then remembered the rest of the situation. For her, this is good parenting. At least she’s not abandoning her family at the moment, like she does from time to time. No wonder the kid is miserable all the time!
I hate all the stupid food laws and restrictions and warnings the government is trying to enforce upon the populace. However, at that moment, I was tempted to call up Michele Obama and become her campaign manager. Disgusting! In this case, as in so many, it’s not a money issue. Adding up the cost of the chips and jerky proved it to be more expensive than a school lunch. Insane!
Am I judging based on my own morals? As a hypocrite (as someone who LOVES Sonic)? Am I saying she loves her son less than she should since she is detrimentally affecting her child’s health? Am I a rich old white guy looking down at every one else (I wish! I would love rich to be one of my modifiers!)? You bet! Yes to all of them!
And, in a way, heart breaking. If food is love (and the buttons flying off my pants on a regular basis attest that food indeed is equivalent is love), there is no love there.
Black Coffee Tables
1 year ago