Sunday, April 1, 2012

C6H12O6 Negotiations

The Smaller Hooligan deigned to accompany to the grocery store.  I sent him to the cereal aisle to make selections.

"Pick out anything you like that's under 7 grams of sugar,"  I cautioned.
He narrowed his eyes at me, "How about 14?"
"10, and not a speck more."
The deal was struck.

He was gone a long time.  I got the chicken, milk, sour cream, eggs, ran into a neighbor--we were bemoaning the school budget woes at length when he re-appeared, empty handed.

"You couldn't find a cereal you like under ten?"
"No, You know that kind they were advertising on TV in the hotel with the cavemen?" (that would be fruity/cocoa pebbles--he is not acquainted with The Flintstones) "Well I found it, and the fruit kind has only 9 grams, but It looks like I'd be eating a pink turd.  Why would I want to eat that?"

An excellent question.

He was very cross.  It was as if those wily advertising agents had promised him a gift that he'd looked forward to eagerly, which had turned out to be gross.



We settled on mini-wheats and special K.

I think I won this round.

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