My son wanted Doritos for breakfast this morning. “Pleeeeaase, Daddy? My stomach monster wants something cheeeesy.” He rubbed his stomach and licked his lips to drive his point home. I gave him the side eye and said no, but offered him a bowl of cereal. He gave me the “Watchutalkinbout Willis?” eyebrow and dropped his voice an octave and growled, “Daddy, my stomach monster doesn’t want ceeereaaal.” I told him it was cereal or nothing. He asked, “Why?” I answered, “Because Doritos are not good for breakfast.” His shoulders fell and he shuffled off to watch the rest of the Wonder Pets.
So as I drove into work munching on a bag of bridge mix I had left in my car, I thought of the hypocrisy of what I’d done. As parents we are constantly telling our kids to not do things that we have done or STILL DO. Who was I to deny him the cheesy, crunchy goodness of Doritos when I’d eaten so much worse for my first meal of the day? Is it because I’m older? Let’s think about that. Whose stomach do you think is better prepared to process the disodium phosphate and hydrogenated soybean oil in those chips: my 34-year-old gastric disaster area, or his fresh and fabulous five-year-old tummy? Who would put the sugar from the Krispy Kreme donuts I have for breakfast from time to time to better use: the guy who sits at a computer for a living, or the kid who uses the strings from my Timberlands to lasso his Pokemon and spelunk down the stairs to my living room? I hear you all talking about “breakfast is the most important meal of the day, yada yada,” but this is the last day of summer vacation. What’s the difference if he has Doritos at 8am or noon with his peanut butter and jelly sandwich and juice box?
As I folded up my bag of bridge mix and parked my car, I could think of only one good reason why I shouldn’t give my son Doritos for breakfast…
My mom would kill me.
