As I may have mentioned, I’m a bit of a sugar fascist. Not a very successful one. And Easter is a particular danger time. But I’ve decided, no more compromises. From now on I’m standing firm.
There were going to be Easter eggs at play group. No chocolate will pass my children’s lips today. None. I am made of iron. Steel. Titanium. I am the immovable object.
At the end of play group the children are each offered several little Easter Eggs. I intercept the eggs and put them in my pocket. My son sees me do this. He fixes me with a look I can’t exactly identify. It’s not quite… hatred. It’s something else. Something colder. He doesn’t complain. He doesn’t say anything. It’s difficult to express how deeply disconcerting this is.
We go out to the car. Without argument my son calmly lets me strap him into his seat. This is highly unusual. I’m starting to get really scared now.
We start to drive. My son asks me if he can have one of his Easter eggs. He asks politely, like a child from a costume drama. I waver for a moment, then gather my strength. “No.” I say, firmly. I am a wall made of walls.
My son looks ahead for several moments, then he explodes. He rails at me in a barely intelligible stream of tragic rage at approximately the volume of an aircraft engine. After what feels like an hour of psychological torture, I give in. It’s probably more like thirty seconds, but I’m broken. It’s only a bit of chocolate, after all. What’s the worst that can happen?
I give my son a chocolate egg. A minute later he looks like a balloon full of liquid chocolate has exploded in his face. His fingers are rubbing it into the lovely new coat his Grandparents bought for him. I have to pull over, panicking.
“Noooooooo!” My son screams as I try to wet wipe him. “I’m licking it! I’m licking it!”
We wrestle, my son sucking chocolate off everything like a crazed addict. When the battle is over, my son’s new coat looks like an industrial accident at Willy Wonka’s.
You may have won this battle, sugar. But you haven’t won the war. That comes when we do the Easter egg hunt. Then you’ll win the war.