Friday, January 26, 2007

Jelly Bean

The dentist has outlawed sweets for the Verbalist. Sitting in the dentist's chair, with an interested yet leery eye to the hardware around him, the Verbalist meekly complied. The Verbalist's immediate dental fear is that of the floride tray - at his cleaning he choked and spasmed at the trays full of the unnaturally pink, bubblegum flavored goop. When I promised him a 6 month reprieve from the Tray of Chokitude he was happy to give sweets a pass, after all these were empherial future treats versus the cold reality of the dentist's office.

Since then the Verbalist has become the Moralist, preaching against the Vice of Fruit Snacks to his younger sisters. It was with a righteous glint in his eye that stepped down from the school bus the following day. He maintained the air of certain moral rectitude the short distance home and upon walking through the front door proffered to me a red jellybean.

"Here you go Mom." he said, sanctity oozing from every pore. "Mrs B-------," his teacher, "gave this to me for being so good in line, but I know I can not have candy now so I saved it for you."

I looked at the jelly bean with a warm glow of successful parenting infusing my breast. I took it, slighty sticky and lint covered and dropped it on my desk, planning a discreet removal to the trash later. I suspect that the jelly bean had been popped into his mouth before realization of it's forbidden status was remembered.

The presence of an unappreciated jelly bean, linty or no, was met with disbelief by the Littlest. "Candy!" came a wail of pleading. "Candy!" Her chubby little hand opened and closed with such ferocity that you could hear the air whoosh.

"No!" came the stern scolding of her elder brother. "You don't get it. It's bad for you." He turned wide eyes to me. "Mom she can't have it! It is too bad for her teeth!"

"She won't," I assured him. "Aren't you worried about me eating it though?" I ask wondering how high his ban on sweets would lead him to lecture."

"Oh well," he said turning and waving his hand with insouciance as he walked away, "You know what you are doing Mom."

1 comment:

WhidbeyIslander said...

The Verbalist's eagerness to impose new-found moral rectitude on all around him was inherited honestly from at least one grandparent.

I will not say which grandparent; but suffice to say I may be eating nothing but brown rice for a month.