Hazard: Fruity Pebbles ahead

I’d like to paint a picture for you.

Imagine for a moment that you’re in the grocery store, walking down the cereal aisle, contemplating your breakfast selection.  As you meander along, you are startled to see in front of you, on the ground, body curled tightly around a box of cereal, a little boy.  He’s maybe four years old.  Cute, with blond, curly hair.  He’s obviously very committed to this cereal box.  The boy’s mother seems to be less committed to this cereal box and appears to be trying to reason with him from nearby.  You can see immediately that this isn’t going anywhere fast.  So you give the mom a quick smile, steer around the boy-on-the ground, and continue on your way.

I didn’t realize the potential humor in this situation until I retold it to Bryan this evening.  Now I wish I’d pulled out my camera and snapped a few pictures.

As we were picking up our O’s and granola at Woodman’s today, Andrew scooted away and came back clutching a box of Fruity Pebbles to his chest.  His eyes were big and bright.  He. Wanted. Them.

I told him that they did indeed look cool, but that we weren’t getting them.

Andrew clutched them closer to his breast and declared his adoration, his NEED for this cereal.

I told him to put the box back because it was under no circumstances coming home with us.

Andrew calmly lay down on the ground and curled his body around the box in the fetal position.

I explained to Andrew-on-the-ground that the cereal he had picked wasn’t healthy and wouldn’t help him grow big and strong and that we don’t bring un-healthy foods into our home (note to self: chocolate chips are healthy).

The Andrew/cereal box shape on the floor didn’t move.  People navigated their shopping carts around him.

I told him that I’d come back here another time when Sylvie wasn’t here (about to lose her patience), and we’d find a special cereal that he thought was fun and that I thought was acceptable.

I sensed a slight loosening of his grip on the box.

I explained that the reason he wanted the cereal so much was because the box was a commercial and (as he knows) commercials are designed to make you want things.  “Boy, that cartoon and those bright colors on that cereal box sure did work well at making you want that cereal.  It’s crazy how effective commercials can be, isn’t it, Andrew!”

He moved the cereal from his stomach and stretched out on the floor with it under his head like a beloved pillow.

Then, and this is a demonstration of a major difference between four-year-old Andrew and one-year-old Sylvia, he let me take the cereal box out from under his head, he kind of sadly stood up, and within a few moments, he was happy and on to the next thing.  I let him get a bag of yogurt-covered cranberries as a super-special treat.  Super special.  He was practically skipping.  My guess is that in a similar situation, Sylvia would still have been screaming at the check-out line.  Hopefully by the time she’s four her ability to transition and to let things go will be amplified.

In the mean time, I have this great image in my head of Andrew curled around Fruity Pebbles on the floor of the grocery store, in the fetal position.