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Come on, all the other kids are doing it!

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.

REGARDLESS!

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?

Posted on June 22, 2012 by Holdin' Holden 8 Comments
Holdin' Holden

About Holdin' Holden

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8 Comments

  • My kids won’t touch a twinkie or a hostess pie…chocolate milk forget it. We had to bribe them with cash to get them to pick up candy at a fucking parade…

  • My boyfriend is like this. Because he is french and i am english there are certain traditions etc involving food that are different from one culture to the next. So I will get all excited about Penguin bars or whatever and want him to try it, and never fails he’s like “ennn, yeah. It’s ok!” Meanwhile i’m like off my head excited for him to try this delicious marvel and WHAM “yeah, it’s ok!”….our kids bettef not be like that! With my luck they’ll be carnivors like their dad!! Lol!

  • Well, I got lucky on grilled cheese sandwich part. My son is a cheese freak. He even snuck in the fridge, (when he finally could open it), & took the cheese out & was pouring alfredo sauce on it & eating it!! That was my first “fridge” incident….there have been more that made me cringe. For example, breaking an egg in the fridge& when I caught him he says ” I’m making eggs for u mom!” Omg, I didn’t know which was gonna happen first, me yelling at him, or bursting into laughter!
    He doesn’t care for nutty bars, but will eat Swiss rolls & kit kat’s all day if it was up to him..
    Loves climbing all over playgrounds, bit hates the swings…loves puddle jimpimg, Yay! Except when he’s dressed up & ask him to stay away from the puddle on the way to car, he can’t, stills plops in it!
    Riding a bike!! Errr…all he kept asking for was a bike, I was excited! So for his 3rd bday he got his bike. He rode it like a champ. Now whenever I get the bike out, Nope, “I don’t wanna ride my bike mumma” Even if his friends are…
    I also find it funny when I buy him a really cool toy, well I think it is anyway, he barely touches it. Sometimes I wonder if I am really getting it bc I think he will enjoy or is it bc I wanna check this gadget out, lol. The toys today are nothing like what we had in my day. Remember ‘yo-yo’s’, ‘rubix (sp?) cubes’, ‘Simon says’, “REAL” ‘Tonka trucks’, etc…or even just putting a card in the spokes of ur bike?
    Lately, around here he seems to think our roles have been reversed. Now I get the “Mommy, you need a time out, you’ve been bad” or ” Mommyyyyy, u weren’t supposed to come in here!” (That usually means he was doing something he wasn’t supposed to, lol). The one that gets me the most is, “Mommy, come here please.” I proceed down the hall to his room, from which he hollared out for me, to find a tornado just went through his room! He looks up 2 me & states “Mommy, look at this mess!!! You need to clean it up right now!” Really?! Lol
    Well, that’s all…for tonight anyway!!

  • Ugh, I just typed out a nice lengthy reply, using my cell, so of course took forever to type out & it didn’t post 🙁
    Idk what I did wrong, but apparently something did, how frustrating!! “Stupid” smartphone…really isn’t very smart since it continues to fuck up my posts!!! Ahhh!!!

  • comments are moderated- so your comment will disappear until it’s approved- just for future reference! 🙂

  • My son doesn’t do anything that he considers to be an imperfect version of the original. Example #1: Cookies. If it’s broken, it won’t be permitted to pass his lips. For me as a kid, if it was broken that meant you could scarf more pieces before anyone could estimate how much you had had already and so no one stopped you until you had eaten way more cookies than you would ordinarily have been allowed. Another one is mud. He will dig in the dirt, he will dig in the sand, he will jump in puddles (but only if it’s clear water) but if a toy falls in mud, he shrieks like he is being brutally murdered until someone retrieves it and cleans it for him. Even then, depending on how much mud contamination was involved, there is a very good chance that toy is then considered dead to him. Me? I would have used it as an excuse for getting my hands into the ooze and squishing it around to see the funny shapes it made as it dripped off of my hands to form little stalactites/stalagmites between my fingers and the ground. I could go on forever with things like these!

  • I had two big brothers, so when my firstborn was a boy I was all “Cars! Trucks! CARSANDTRUCKS!!” I went out and bought every freaking hotwheels car ever made, AND the big carry all case, the race tracks, the tonka trucks, the scoot em backwards and they fly forwards till they hit a wall trucks. Police cars and firetrucks with sirens, the freakin batmobile! The G.I. Joe fully equipped battle tank with little rockets that fly out when you push the button on the back. I would bring these awesome beauties home, help him unwrap them, then spend the next half hour racing and crashing them (supplying my own sound effects of course) while he sat bemusedly on a chair, and occasionally sighing with boredom. One day he came up to me “Look Mom! I pwayin wit da cars!” I ran into his bedroom to see that he had placed every single car in a straight line across his bedroom floor, in order of size, in perfect alignment. Then he carefully picked them all up, put them in their boxes and buckets and never touched them again. Same with transformers, action figures, all the cool awesome toys my brothers had that I wasn’t allowed to touch and therefor lusted after. He could care less. My son? he wants a video game or a book. period. FML