I correct their grammar. I watch their language. I encourage good moral character and am constantly forcing upon them such things as exercise, education, and healthy eating habits. Generally speaking, it’s exhausting. Parenting would be a much easier job if I didn’t give a hoot about how clean their bodies, mouths, and minds were. I may not be so drained at the end of each day if I let them just eat French fries and didn’t check their homework. But I do give a hoot and so it goes that by the time they are tucked in bed with clean teeth and a story with a life lesson, I collapse in a pathetic heap.
But the universe has something to say to me about all of it. At the store where I do most of my grocery shopping, right on the end cap by the snacks and beverages is a full rack of something that seems to jump out at me every time I roll my cart by. It practically leaps off the rack and challenges my very parenting techniques no matter how I try to avert my eyes.
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