In which I fail as a mother. Again.

Some people in my house refuse to eat healthy food. For me, the shame of this is about the equivalent of an ecclesiastical leader whose kids are sleeping around and doing drugs. My kids know better! I was the Utah PTA Health Commissioner, for heaven's sake. That's practically like being a doctor. Or a nutritionist. In any case, it gave me some exposure to some stuff and I brought that stuff home. A lot.

I've posted lists of simple healthy snacks and meals on the fridge. I've taught them the difference between high fructose corn syrup and honey. I almost always provide a hot, healthy meal for dinner. All one has to do to partake of that is to let me know they'll be around. Easier said than done, apparently.

It started simply enough. Daltonman doesn't like the peanut butter that's just made from peanuts. He likes the stuff that's half sugar. Sure. Who doesn't? Also, there's work involved with the real stuff. You either have to keep it in the fridge so the oil doesn't separate, and then chisel it out and place chunks on your bread, or if you keep it on the shelf you have to stir it for five minutes every time you use it.

I thought this "work" issue might be the sticking point, but the farther this goes, the more I think it's just open rebellion. Or maybe something else. I don't have any idea what.

It's not like they don't show an interest in being healthy. They're always asking questions about what they could eat that would be healthier. And I try to provide them with choices so they can always find something to eat. We've told them that they're welcome to any food in the house, and if there are restrictions (my special chocolate, for example), we'll let them know.

So the peanut butter started showing up, and then the sugary jam. Then the white bread appeared. I almost died. And then the honey. (The local stuff we buy tends to solidify, and you have to place the container in a bowl of warm water in order to squeeze it out of the bottle. Way too much work.) The white bread I can't figure out, since there isn't any work involved with bread, and there's free whole grain bread already here.

In fact, there's food all over this house. And did I mention it was free? And it's not even weird, hippie food. Cold cereal (healthy); leftover meals (almost always delicious) placed in individual serving-sized containers and needing only to be microwaved to enjoy wholesome goodness; sandwich fixin's; fruits and vegetables; you get the picture. Sure, some of this stuff requires a minute or two of a person's time to prepare, but who doesn't have a minute or two? Literally. A minute. Or two. People with part-time jobs most certainly do have a minute or two. And even if they didn't, wouldn't a dang quesadilla (available here--and free) be preferable to a sugar sandwich on white bread?

Since adult people should be allowed to make their own choices, and because I'm just generous and forgiving that way, I cleared away part of a shelf in the kitchen for them to keep their crappy food. I am constantly amazed at what appears on it. Today's manifestation sent me over the edge. And forced me to blog. Because what else is a girl to do?