She Has Other Children, But . . .

Teenagers do not like it when the parents of their friends stop saying 'hello' and jump right in with:

"I'm so glad you finally stopped playing so much Call of Duty!  Your mom was really worried about the time you were spending on that game!"

Or

"Did those tap shoes make it the dance on time?  I can't believe your mother went to seven thrift stores because the new shoes didn't arrive!  She is SO funny.  Did she really whack that other mother with a tap shoe or was that a joke for the blog?"

Merrick, on the other hand, thinks his presence on a blog makes him famous and the thin stream of steady, loyal readers here (bless you and the check is finally in the mail) are the reason.  The blog, and his occasional big youtube hit.

Thus, one more Merrick story.

Thanks to Michele Obama and general anti-obesity school crusades, the tiny teeny toothpick Merrick has developed an inordinate fear of contracting diabetes.  This fear manifests itself in the following ways:

• Constant steady stream of questions and concerns regarding diabetes
• Cookies, candy, cake and anything sweet engender an uncomfortable combination of Desire and Terror
• Constant steady stream of questions and concerns regrading diabetes
• New-found zeal for apples and carrots, believing that three apples and a carrot counterbalance any processed sugar
• A calculated fear-based approach to eating as food now holds the LETHAL possibility of diabetes
• Constant steady stream of questions and concerns regarding diabetes
• Intense interest in genetics and medical histories for generations of deceased family members who may POSSIBLY HAVE DIED from diabetes

The Matron is weary -- completely spent, actually -- of medical discourse.  She is afraid to offer a piece of thinly buttered toast for breakfast, as this initiates a long convoluted exchange regarding the potential of this particular piece of toast to tip the diabetes scale.

Merrick:  "Can this give me diabetes?"

Matron:  "No.  Toast is a whole.  No sugar."

Merrick:  "Is there sugaw in buttew?  Did you put too much buttew on this?  Does buttew make you fat?  Can I eat a gwape?   That has sugaw.   Is thewe a bad sugaw in milk?"

Whereupon the Matron has been attempting simple but honest and thorough answers:  she is happy Merrick cares about his health, she is aware that 'caring' has crossed a line to obsession, and she appreciates that her little guy is genuinely scared about the evil monster Diabetes lurking in his Lucky Charms.

But she will also admit to some Topic Fatigue on the subject of diabetes -- which also extends to each dog and his chance of also succumbing to the plague.

Today in the car, she heard this from the lone occupant in the backseat.

Merrick:   "Does watching TV cause diabetes?"

Every cell in the Matronly body lights up.   If left to his own devices, this child would plug a television into his navel for ease of access.  Everyday is a negotiation between how much TV he is allowed to watch and how much TV he plans to watch.  TV, TV, TV.  

But the Matron - - sensitive, attuned parent -- is well aware of Merrick's delicate condition.  One wrong word strikes terror.  He is afraid of peanut butter, waffles, and chocolate chips.   Instead of playing, he is calculating his genetic predisposition to disease.  More than anything, the Matron wants to reinforce Reason and Common Sense.  Moderation.  She does not want her child to live in fear.

Merrick:  "Mom?  Did you heaw me?   Does watching TV cause diabetes?"

Matron:  "YES!  Why yes it DOES!"

Sorry, Dr. Spock.