Mark and I both have new addictions, and they are (literally) feeding off one another. His voracious appetite spurred me to purchase a membership to a certain warehouse-style store filled with 60-count boxes of granola bars (among other things).
It was bad enough that I bought the membership in the first place (I've gone about once a week in the last month), but it was worse when I took Mark with me. He smiled widely, and then his eyes glazed over at the giant boxes of...everything. He begged me to buy him a box containing 60 snack-size cookie packs, and when I asked who on Earth could eat that many cookies, he exclaimed, "Me!" I assured him that was not healthy or realistic, and moved on.
But when he saw a box of Go-Gurts, he turned on the charm. I finally relented just to make him back off, which is how I ended up at home with a box of 32 yogurt-filled tubes.
"Can I have a Go-Gurt?" has become his new mantra, and he is not shy about using it.
"How was school today?" I ask him, and he responds, "Fine, can I have a Go-Gurt?"
"Did you finish your homework?" I ask, only to hear, "Yes, can I have a Go-Gurt?"
"Time for bed," I tell him nightly, to which he replies (say it with me!), "Can I have a Go-Gurt?"
I hear the same request before every meal, except breakfast, when he's not fully awake until after he eats. Then, when he does wake up, he pounds on the bathroom door while I'm showering. Although all I hear is muffled shouting, I'm pretty sure of what he's asking.
Then he went to camp, where he learned to enjoy a new delicacy -- frozen Go-Gurt. Now Mark tosses them in the freezer and plucks them out, telling me they taste like ice cream.
"Or like Golden Spoon," he said. "They taste just like frozen yogurt." He failed to see the irony in that comment!
The truth is, I don't mind if he has a Go-Gurt. He hates milk, so I figure at least he's getting some calcium from the yogurt, and I don't have to fight him to eat it. But like an addict, he can't just stop at one.
This became abundantly clear when I noticed the dwindling supply.
"There are only 11 tubes left," I noted.
"Ooooh, can I have a --" he started, but I cut him short with "Eleven!"
"So?" he said.
"So, it's only been six days since we bought that box!" I exclaimed. "You've eaten 21 Go-Gurts in six days!"
"I told you I ate a bunch on Saturday," he said, silently counting his fingers. His eyebrows shot up, and he gasped, "Whoa! A lot."
"How many is 'a lot'?" I asked.
"Ten!" he answered. We were both shocked.
"Slow down!" I told him. "There's not a Go-Gurt shortage. I'll buy you more!"
He took my advice to heart. Yesterday, he only ate three tubes. At one point, he actually squealed with delight while eating one.
I thought he was just really enjoying the yogurt. But when he came into the kitchen, he was clutching a brochure.
"Look, Mom!" he said, excitedly. He held up a coupon from the warehouse store. It was good for $2 off another box of yogurt tubes.
Mark ripped it out and danced around.
I just sighed, and wondered if there's a 12 step program to wean him off the berry-flavored fro-yo.
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