I hate 3:00 p.m. on a school day. It means I’m a failure. Once
again, I’ve failed to come up with a “healthy snack” for my ravenous
Varsity Cheerleader. Our routine was to just go over to Chipotle which
wasn’t really great because those burritos, even though they were
pretty clean, would stuff her until around 5:30, at which time, I’ve
lost the will to live because I’m tired and I don’t want to come up
with any kind of dinner, so she’s left to forage which makes me feel
like an even worse failure.
And, for the record, all those parenting books that suggest
those ‘healthy snacks’ are full of it. No kid I’ve ever known, except
maybe one that grew up on a commune, would ever think that shit is
good. “Oh yummy, celery with peanut butter and raisins! Ants on a log!
Thanks mommy!” There’s also Amir. He’s the Fox that led Pinocchio to the world of the Lost Boys, otherwise known as the guy with the snack truck parked
outside the gym. I can’t tell you how many times my daughter has come
to the car with a piece of cellophane wrapped cake bigger than her face
along with a jug of orange Gatorade. Jesus!
It’s a landmine of insulin torment out there. BUT…there are flashes of genius.