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The other day when I was in the grocery store I had a revelation.  People no longer wonder if I run a day care.  Instead they wonder if I have a deli, or some sort of restaurant.  When the boys were little, I used to frequent BabiesRUs, and buy in bulk.  It was common to get comments on my exceptionally full cart, the curious people wondering aloud if I ran a day care.

Nowadays, it’s my grocery cart they comment on.  On this particular shopping trip, two different men commented on the gigantic mountain rising out of the cart where items were precariously perched, in obvious danger of sliding off and onto the floor.  The moment I say I have three teenage boys, a look of comprehension dawns on their faces, rapidly replaced by a look that can only be described as, “Good luck with THAT!”  One gentleman said, “Oh, so you’ll be back later this week?” with a grin and a wink.  Probably so.  They eat so much, it’s mind boggling.  Their idea of a snack is a Boston Market Frozen dinner, a sandwhich, a whole bag of potatoe chips, or all of the above.  I used to get mad about this.

“You’re not going to eat your dinner!”  I would reply, telling them no, they could not have such a snack. The moans and the drama…

“This is child abuse!” Buzzard says, “Making us starve!”

“Yeah,” pipes in Roo.  “Other parents don’t allow their kids to go hungry,” followed by the infamous one liner that is anathma to all parents.  “You’re the ONLY ONE!”

So I did the only thing I could do.  I gave in.  Bad parenting, I know.  But I was astounded to find that they did, in fact,  eat the snack AND all their dinner.  Now the only question left in my mind is, which will cost more–car insurance when they start driving or their groceries?

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