From Biafra to Darfur
For years I never dabbled in the "get the kids" to eat game. It seemed like a sucker's deal to me. I remember clearly staring at a well-done piece of shoe leather steak as a kid and hearing my mother bray "There are children starving in Biafra, now eat your protein!" (Yes, my mother really talked like that. She still does. I'm afraid I say the same thing--"eat your protein") I wasn't smart enough to realize that there was no connection between my lousy cut of steak and starving kids in Biafra, but my kids seem more geographically astute and more advanced in the study of logic.
Does Biafra even still exist? Or is it now part of the Sudan? It doesn't matter. Stupidly, I somehow fell into the "eat your dinner" trap. It was a slow tumble into the pit of nonsense. My kids are thin--way thin. My daughter may weigh 55 lbs now and my son tops out at 44.5 lbs. They're fine. In fact they're built the same way their father and I were built when we were kids. There's no need to worry and the truth is, I don't worry exactly. I think the constant din of parents around me cajoling, nagging, threatening, begging, wheedling, etc. just wore me down. I am weak...and possibly getting stupid.
I have surrendered my integrity completely for now I use Darfur. I sometimes say "there are kids in Darfur living horrible lives and you're whining about 'Nilla Wafers?" Or "There is terrible strife in Darfur and you're complaining because the salmon is farm-raised and not wild?" They look bored, get out the map and promptly find Darfur. Then they bombard me with questions like "what's the conflict about?" (No, I do not say 'Nilla Wafers) and "who is fighting whom?" (They don't really say "whom". They're gifted like everyone's kids around here but they're not geniuses.) Soon, the subject of food and dinner or anything related to anything in the here and now is forgotten. An hour later, just before bedtime, they will rummage through the cupboards seeking empty carbs. At least they know where Darfur is, I guess.
Does Biafra even still exist? Or is it now part of the Sudan? It doesn't matter. Stupidly, I somehow fell into the "eat your dinner" trap. It was a slow tumble into the pit of nonsense. My kids are thin--way thin. My daughter may weigh 55 lbs now and my son tops out at 44.5 lbs. They're fine. In fact they're built the same way their father and I were built when we were kids. There's no need to worry and the truth is, I don't worry exactly. I think the constant din of parents around me cajoling, nagging, threatening, begging, wheedling, etc. just wore me down. I am weak...and possibly getting stupid.
I have surrendered my integrity completely for now I use Darfur. I sometimes say "there are kids in Darfur living horrible lives and you're whining about 'Nilla Wafers?" Or "There is terrible strife in Darfur and you're complaining because the salmon is farm-raised and not wild?" They look bored, get out the map and promptly find Darfur. Then they bombard me with questions like "what's the conflict about?" (No, I do not say 'Nilla Wafers) and "who is fighting whom?" (They don't really say "whom". They're gifted like everyone's kids around here but they're not geniuses.) Soon, the subject of food and dinner or anything related to anything in the here and now is forgotten. An hour later, just before bedtime, they will rummage through the cupboards seeking empty carbs. At least they know where Darfur is, I guess.
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