Monday, July 25, 2011

One Sip

My son Ethan?

Loves coffee. Yes. Coffee.

And he's 9. (OK, not even, but he'll be 9 in a few days, so I have to start thinking of him that way so I don't cry all over him and his twin brother Jake on their birthday, being SO not my babies anymore and all.)

I'm not a bad mother, don't turn me in. It's not like he's really drinking it, I don't pour him a big ol' steaming cup of Joe every morning. 

It's just... you know how whatever you're having, if it looks like you're really enjoying it, if it seems important to you? Your kids want it too. (Well at least the ones typical enough to notice such things.) They can become real pests about it.

Yeah, Ethan is like that. I give the lecture about some things being just for grownups, not good for kids, etc. but still, the lure of the "semi-forbidden-grown-up" thing is strongly at work here, too.

And the whole thing is my own damn fault.

It started out with me, like a fool, letting him have ONE sip, once...  I was thinking: stinking picky eater that he is, he'll hate the taste and that will be the end of it.


He LOVED it. (face palm)

Probably because I take mine light and sweet.

So now every time he is around when I'm drinking coffee - especially iced coffee? He wants a sip.

He begs, whines, wheedles and pleads for a sip.


And every now and then, for a special treat? I let him have one.

One sip.

And you know how nicely the other mommies at Starbucks look at me when I let him have one there, right? (Yes. Like there was a skull and crossbones on the cup I was offering to him.)

But the thing is, I can't over-emphasize how terrible coffee is for you, because he's likely to want to drink it some day. And also because Ethan has a logical mind, and will want to know why *I* am drinking poison on a daily basis. And he will try to get me to stop.

And that will never do.

Must. Have. Coffee.

So, really, how harmful is one occasional sip of milky coffee, considering the massive unknown load of environmental toxins our bodies are being bombarded with every day? (See, I can justify anything, it's one of my true talents.)

And anyway, he already drinks tea with me regularly. (Sit back in your seats, his is decaf.)

And like Jean-Luc Picard, we prefer Earl Grey, hot.

Note: This post was inspired by a post on "Is There Any Mommy Out There": Sip locusts. It is essentially an expansion of a comment I made on that wonderful post. Thanks, Stacey for being such a moving and inspiring writer. 

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