Rite of Passage

I experienced a major parenting rite of passage this week.  It was shocking.  It was cliche.  It was horrifying.  It was hilarious.  We were on our way home from the swimming hole and needed a few staples we only buy at Shaw's--a store we normally shun for its Muzak, fluorescent lighting, and additive-laden food.  Everything was going smoothly until hit the cracker aisle.  I had convinced Mazin to carry the bottle of cooking oil, which made him quite happy.  But then he saw the Goldfish package--the same one he sees during snack at the library story hour.  Of course, they put them on the lowest shelf, no doubt so kids can reach them.  He grabbed the bag and put it in our basket.  That seemed to trigger something.  Suddenly he seemed to be looking around for other things with appealing labels and colorful packaging.  We made a bee line for the checkout.  And what did Mazin encounter there, right at kid eye and hand level, but a shiny rack of candy bars?  Irresistible.  He started collecting one of each kind, thrusting them at me and grunting.  I actually said to him, "Oh don't be so cliche!"  I tried to put them back faster than he could take them out again, but he was winning the race.  I tried various tricks of distraction, but he was on to me.  He was single-minded in his pursuit of a Snickers.  The funny thing is, he's never had a candy bar.  But he has had a Luna Bar, which is just an overpriced, slightly less tooth-rotting version of a candy bar containing evaporated cane juice in place of high fructose corn syrup.  The scene quickly devolved.  He started screaming in frustration, and we whisked him out of the store--all eyes on us, of course, the parents with the unruly child.

So many times I have witnessed this very same scene, but now I can proudly claim my place in the ranks of parents the world over who have faced and been vanquished by the candy aisle.  Luckily, Mazin forgot about it the minute we left the store, and John and I could laugh about the whole thing.  I was incredulous: how, oh how, could we, as parents, tolerate such a dirty trick?  Why hasn't something been done, I asked myself, to stop the evil grocery chains from torturing parents and children in this way?  But then Mazin needed to have his diaper changed, and it was time to think about making dinner, and I had my answer.

The shock of the experience was simply the realization that my child is putting it all together.  He has figured out that the store is where you collect things to take home.  The other day he picked out a juice and paid for it himself, but giving the clerk a handful of shiny coins.  It was probably the highlight of his week.  All these odd things we do--he will start to accept them, and they will become his norm.  I hope he can retain a bit of the purity and perspective he had at birth, to help him get through all those metaphorical candy aisles he will face in the future.