Friday, February 3, 2017

"No, You May Not Have this Cup of Loose Pomegranate Seeds 'For the Road'"

I didn't start this blog in 2014 intending to write about our Sentient Cheeto Overlord every day. I started it to document my inept parenting, terrible personal habits, and generalized dysfunction as a human being. Indeed, I always considered this blog to be completely apolitical, and I still do.

Let me explain: we are in uncharted territory of domestic democratic abuses. Abuses that have crossed the Rubicon from politics and policy to simple human dignity and preservation of democracy. And the tide of overwhelming malfeasance and daily mendacity from the Trump Gold House threatens to overwhelm the enforcement and resistance mechanisms in place to counter them.

This is my long way of saying, I intend to throw a leftist libtard snowflake temper tantrum every single day that FAKE POTUS occupies 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, but we all still need to live our daily lives, however vigilant. As I came to learn yesterday, that vigilance includes #resisting my 6 year-old son and 9 year-old daughter's request to take a cup of loose pomegranate seeds "for the road."


Philosophically speaking, I would rather hammer home the life-saving message of seat belts, helmets, and safe sex than battle with my kids over more trivial matters like broccoli, ear piercings, and making their beds each morning.

As a result, our only dinner table dress code rule is "no exposed anus," and our car is a shit hole on wheels replete with food wrappers, loose/sometimes-unsigned field trip permission slips, homework papers, and soggy granola bars that make our 2005 Honda Pilot look like the set for an episode of Hoarders Junior. (They need to make that show, my daughter Paige would totally be in the first season).

But I had to draw the line (or try to) at my kids' request to take this cup of loose pomegranate seeds "for the road."

Let's put aside the fact that the energy it takes to produce and ship this product to Juneau, Alaska where we live is too high to justify its existence, much less its purchase and consumption. Let's also set aside the fact that these loose pomegranate seeds get moldy within two days of said purchase, thus precluding consumption in any event.

Let's focus instead on the fact that in no universe--alternative or otherwise--does this cup of loose pomegranate seeds belong in a car. 

When my 6 year-old son Isaac asked to take this snack "for the road," my mind quickly played a preview reel of what our car would look like with the addition of 1,000 loose, mold-prone pomegranate seeds all over its interior, and then I weighed that against the fact that this was--at long last--a request for a nutritious snack from someone whose diet consists almost exclusively of processed meat and Heinz ketchup (with occasional gummy bear vitamins to offset the damage).

Having duly considered all of that, I delivered my final verdict to Isaac with a sigh. "Ugh. FINE." 

We all have our limits, but sadly for our car, mine would live to see another day.


  1. This is delightful. Don't change. #Resist

  2. I am only disappointed you didn't tell us how much that little cup of joy cost in Juneau. I know it is far more than I want to spend here ... can't even imagine what it is there.


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