It’s that time of year again. The annual religious ritual of “The Overindulgence of the Chocolate”.
And on the interweb this image does the rounds:
While many of you have been fooled by my profile photo and believe I’m about 25 years young, I am in fact a tad older – and have two children, aged 9 and 10. Like all parents of young kids, we’ve had to devise ways to educate them about the evils of fast-food and junk-food. Not an easy task.
But we figured, if we convince them in their earliest years they would be good for life – well until they were teenagers and wreak their revenge.
One thing we’ve done is to physically demonstrate how much sugar is in a can of soft drink, particularly a popular cola. And also how much sugar is in fruit juice. The visual demonstration of a quarter of the bottle storing sugar, is quite compelling.
Whenever the chicken and burger ads appeared on TV we blame obesity on those brands. This was helped by “Pie Man”. He’s a council worker who the kids passed on their bikes, as they rode to school along the beach each morning. He is enormously overweight and each day eats 2 or 3 pies and a cola for breakfast, oblivious to the hundreds of people exercising around him. He is a sort of visual reinforcement of our teachings. Thank you Pie Man.
So when we are driving, instead of nagging us to pull into a drive-through (or drive-thru in marketing-speak) our kids screw up their noses, display their fingers in a cross sign and hold them up in defiance towards the fast-food store as we cruise past.
A while back, the TV was on and one of our kids said “yuk, that’s the Kids Fattening Centre” when an ad for KFC appeared. I questioned where they learned that and they rattled off a bunch of other nick-names used in the playground. Kids Fat Club, Kill Fat Chickens, McFatter and some others around pig fat in ice cream that I won’t repeat. Obviously they have learned something.
Suffice to say, we have succeeded in at least removing fast-foods from our kids radar of preferred fuel. All this writing about food has made me a bit peckish.
I might have a couple of hot-cross buns lathered in butter for breakfast, and just one chocolate egg won’t hurt – well not if they don’t catch me. And maybe we could have fish n chips for dinner, after all it is Good Friday.