Is there such a thing as too much sweetness?
No, really. Consider it for a moment.
There's this thing with kids and sugar. I feel like lots and lots of people agree that sugar is bad for children, yes? That it's even a little frightening somehow. Once they start consuming that nectar of Satan, we fear, our children may never, ever stop.
That's possible. I mean, look at my own behavior: I bake cookies regularly, and around my kids I am a complete sugar hypocrite. I'll have one cookie. Two cookies.
That's enough for now!, I'll say, the model of temperance.
I don't sweat it; the deck's stacked in my favor. They've got to go to sleep some time. Once they're in dreamland, those cookies are all mine.
(Harumph harumph, but I am a grown woman who also eats vegetables, so that's okay, harumph, Get off my lawn, Sonney.)
I kept sugar from Oscar for a long time. This was during my Amish Parenting Period (similar to Picasso's Blue, really). I would have hand constructed all of his playthings if I could.
Son, take thou this ball of yarn with a grateful heart.
Look, boy! I whittled for thee!
Merry Christmas, lad! Take thee this orange and enjoy it with my blessings of good tidings and a wholesome slumber!
Yeah. Well, I tried it.
These days I'm figuring that as much as I'm supposed to protect my little angels from the Great Evils of this World, it's also my job to make sure they have fun. And let's face it -- there are a number of Greater Evils than a snack bag of M&M's.
So lately I've been allowing the kids more leeway on the sweetness front. I'm loosening the ol' leash. Oscar doesn't yet know what to make of it -- and truthfully, neither do I -- but it's kind of fun to watch. I'm just generally looking for more opportunities for treats. Just enhancing the delight. Not as a reward, but just because it's fun and it's part of what being a kid is about.
Speaking of delight:
I got really excited when I found out there would be cotton candy there. Cotton candy. Okay, granted, a lot of the cotton candy I had as a kid was not exactly artisanal. But that wasn't the point, was it? Could there be a more frivolous edible experience?
In preparation, we counted our change carefully and determined we had just over four dollars to spend. I hoped against hope that it would be enough; I didn't know how inflation would have affected the cotton candy market since I was a little girl.
You know what? It cost three dollars. Three dollars by a company called Spun. It was Lavendar Flavored, ya'll!
The best damn cotton candy I've ever had.
I ask you: Too much sweetness?
Nope.
