This morning I woke up to find my daughter sitting at the kitchen table in her bikini, dipping mini marshmallows in maple syrup. No, she wasn’t alone. She didn’t get up and do something cute like fix herself breakfast. Grandma did! Yup, Grandma thought that since my daughter was such a good girl and had eaten all of her French toast sticks and drank all of her (cold) hot chocolate, which I swear had so much chocolate in it I would have sworn she was drinking black coffee, that she deserved a reward. And that reward came in the form of teeny tiny little puffs of sweet sugary goodness. But that wasn’t enough. She needed something to dip them in! Why maple syrup of course! All of this before 8am. Brilliant.

I have to be honest; I laughed and went about my morning routine. It really didn’t bother me. The reality is she was leaving for camp in a half hour; so technically, she was their cracked out mess to deal with. Had it been a Saturday, however, shit would have hit the fan.

I’m not one of those parents that monitors everything my kid eats. If she eats a halfway decent meal, I’m totally cool with giving her some ice cream since that seems to be her “go to” lately. We feed her anything she wants most of the time. She happens to be a pretty decent eater so I don’t really restrict anything. As long as the kids eating, I’m happy. The sugar intake I do keep an eye on, but mainly when it pertains to time of day. Like at 8am or 8pm, I’m not about to break out the Fun Dip.

My mom always says that a kid that eats is a blessing. She knows because my oldest sister practically had to be force fed as a child. So there was my poor mother, lying awake at night thinking about her malnourished baby girl who wouldn’t eat. That’s the Jew in her. My sister was fine. She was skinny and a pain in the ass to feed, but she made it through just fine. Now she’s 5’6″ and weighs a buck 15 soaking wet, holding a brick so fuck her. Just kidding Lor, you know I love you, you skinny bitch.

The last time my parents watched my daughter she came home wanting only Cherry Garcia, chocolate milk and pudding with whipped cream on top. When I asked her what she had for breakfast at Grandma’s she replied, “a bagel with Cherry Garcia.” Awesome. Again, their problem not mine. You wanna get the kid all jacked up on sugar, be my guest. But when she doesn’t nap and is literally doing laps around the kitchen table, know that you’re getting what you deserve! A Flavor Ice at 8pm is just plain stupid, so if you want to go there with her, then you’re going to suffer the consequences. I have no sympathy for you when I come to pick her up and you look like you’ve been hit by a train. You asked for it Grandma!

Oh and Grandpa, don’t sit there looking all smug. She told me that you’re going to buy her a present but that “I’m not apposed to tell ma cousins b’cause Grampa can’t afford all these dam presents.” Great. Thanks for that one.

Here I am, worrying about all the dumb shit I do around this kid when the real threats, the you didn’t see them coming navy seal type of threats… are the Grandparents.

You’ve been warned.

Going Parental appears every Thursday. Grandparents appear much more frequently, uninvited and armed with sugar.

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