Most of us have fond memories from our days as a carefree child. I don’t mean the days we spent in our rooms for yelling out ASSHOLE in front of the neighbors, all the times we cried over spilled milk, or when that ugly fuckfaced-colonsniffer teased us at recess- generally those are not the memories that choose to stick, y’know, unless it was a really ugly fuckfaced-colonsniffer and you tossed’em in the garbage can where they belong. That would definitely be something to remember.
For me, the things that I remember the most vividly are the things I MISS the most.
Sitting on the front porch in the summer months, eating a bomb pop from the ice cream truck and washing it down with a giant glass of chocolate milk. It’s not even called a bomb pop anymore. Sadface.
Putting up a lemonade stand and only charging .25 a cup. Swinging on swingsets until I couldn’t get any higher and then jumping off… y’know, without worrying about breaking a leg or a hip or a face. Having no cares or worries other than how long I was going to be allowed to stay in the pool or if my mom would make me get out of the lake insisting there were snakes. Snakes! PSH! I fondly recall hamburger helper night, STROGANOFF, you know what i’m talkin’ about- when you still had to make the sour cream sauce in its OWN bowl, so it was thick and creamy and not this stupid runny bullshit we’re stuck with now, and especially chicken pot pie night. REAL macaroni and cheese and not kraft “doesn’t really taste like it has any cheese in it” of today. Brownie batter and homemade cakes, and those chocolate keebler cookies with the peanut butter in the middle that dis-a-fucking-peared one day and broke my tiny child heart. Oreos before there was double stuft and leaving them so long dunking in milk that they were deliciously falling apart. Climbing trees, playing in the rain, catching fireflies.
These are all the things that I would think most childhoods are made of. Typical, even stereotypical, things that kids LOVE. Things that as you get older you don’t have the luxury of enjoying anymore because you have bills and responsibilities and all that other not so fun or carefree stuff.
The things that once you have your own kids, you think HELL FUCKING YES! because you will finally get to experience these things again. Either vicariously, using them as an excuse, or both. I won’t judge.
Ok, well that is what I do, and we all know how I like to think that what I think is what everyone else thinks even if that is not at all the case.
I was really looking forward to partaking in all of the little things I look back on so fondly. I was looking forward to introducing my kids to these staples of childhood enjoyment and making such an impression on them with it, that they would eventually want to enjoy it with THEIR kids.
Ok basically I just wanted to snarf some good ol’ fashioned fatty foods and make my kids just like me. SO what?
And wouldn’t you know it, my kids fucking HATE the shit I used to love. BLASPHEMY!!!
Who are you and what have you done with my REAL children??
I mean, I get it- Parker is picky as all fuck, but even hoover-mouth Holden thumbs his nose up at things created just FOR kids because kids as a whole have loved that junk for as long as time has been calculated.
Chocolate milk? EFF THAT NOISE! I have tried, only on a few occasions, to let the kids partake in the bliss that is the chocolate beverage. Not all of the time because I don’t want them to crack out on it, but a few times. A few times makes it special. A special treat, and not an every day- here crack out on this sugar- deal. Every.single.time they have absolutely HATED it. I even made Holden hot chocolate from scratch one day, and let me tell you- it was fucking fantastic, and he barely took a sip before saying he didn’t like it and has never drank it again.
I know this will hopefully lead to good decisions in school (I can’t remember EVER choosing white milk), but COME ON. It’s CHOCOLATE MILK for fuck’s sake! Get with the program!
Another thing that just doesn’t fly is grilled cheese. Noommmmmm melty buttery deliciousy grilled cheese. Next to peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, it is at the very top of the list for sandwiches kids love more than anything else. And who wouldn’t? It’s cheese. It’s melted. It’s crunchy. It’s friggin heaven on bread.
Parker doesn’t, that’s who. The kid LOVES cheese, but if you melt it? It’s dead to him.
GET THE FUCK OUT! I could not have birthed you from my loins!
They don’t understand the appeal of peeling apart a nutty bar and scraping out the peanut butter before eating the wafer, they don’t dip cookies in anything but their own saliva, and I have to yell to them multiple times before they’ll decide they might have a TASTE of brownie batter.
Ugh, and they fucking love Kraft mac & cheese. SURE, blame me for buying it! But it’s cheap and it’s easy and it’s convenient, and it’s hard to argue with that over the flavor. I’m ashamed.
All of these visions of how my second childhood would unfold, and I get the kids who throw grilled cheese sandwiches at me because they hate them so much, can’t sleep peacefully through thunderstorms like it’s the best white noise ever, stomp in puddles but act like rain is acid, don’t find dozing in the car to be an extremely enjoyable activity, and won’t chug chocolate milk like it’s crack.
If it weren’t for the intense, almost frightening love of reeses peanut butter cups (and of course the uncanny resemblance) I would swear they were switched at birth.
So what now? I have to eat this shit on my own time, and do all of these ’embarrassing to do as an adult’ things with no “well my kid wanted to” excuse? That doesn’t work for me at all.
Anyone going through the same thing? What things did you LOVE as a kid that your kids HATE?
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Hard pass from me pic.twitter.com/VayvW1eopK
I've gotten to the point where I'd let my kids summon a demon with a Ouija board before I'd let them play Monopoly together again.
Parenthood is when you start counting the minutes to bed time before 11am.
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