Crib Notes - Reading can be DANGEROUS

Lately I’ve been reading a lot of labels on my food. Sure, I read labels a great deal when they first appeared on food packages and then again when the kids were first born. When our girls were tiny I hovered over them like a preservative guard, determined that no food I couldn’t pronounce would find its way into their tiny, pure tummies.

Back then I vowed they would only eat the food that had been lovingly grown by nuns in beatific organic farms, wrapped in grape leaves and delivered by doves to a local farmers market which I would frequent with both of my sparkling, lovely children running between aisles of fresh produce and flowers. I’d take the food into the kitchen where I would then cook in non-Teflon cookware, seasoned with equal parts love and extra virgin olive oil using recipes handed down by generations of cooks, all of whom raised Nobel winning scientists and poets.

Ahem.

Needless to say, THAT didn’t last long (although I STILL think the cookbook would be a good idea). But I tried to maintain some standards, usually revolving around food dye. Even that fell to the wayside as our schedules got crazier and crazier.

Lately, though, I’ve had to face a very hard reality. Egg nog is way too persistent. Recent events in my closet have required me to face a brutal truth – if I don’t start reading labels, I will have nothing to wear but yoga pants and sweaters.

So when we were off on a longish trip, we stopped by the convenience store for “provisions.” My one vice will not give up is my affection for sweet tea. I’m Texan, for goodness sake, and there are some things I simply cannot and will not surrender, yoga pants or not. I was reading the label on one particularly tall can of ice tea, a bit surprised at how little it had in the form of calories.

Mireya, who had already grabbed her milk and cookies, came to check on me. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, I want to buy this tea because it has fewer calories, but it says it has three servings! Does that look like three servings?” I said, incredulous. “Who would ever open a can and then only drink a third of it? Who? Who? Who?”

She smiled and wisely went off to look for her sister.

I grabbed the can and gave the whole situation some serious thought. I could just switch to water or try to find a diet drink I could stand.

Then again, I actually do have some pretty cute yoga pants and sweaters…