Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Co-opting pagan rituals for the sake of candy since 2007

I've been bad about posting. I really wanted to post just after Easter, but I had a rough week in which I received some pretty bad news about a friend who was killed, and in light of that and the recent shootings at Virginia Tech, it seemed frivolous to post about the fact that D had candy for the first time over Easter and how much fun it was this year to have Easter with him.

But I have been thinking about this more and more, and I think what helps me to get through news that seems so bad you can't even get your brain around it are precisely these moments of silliness and joy--even if they are fueled almost entirely by high fructose corn syrup and D&C red #5.

So I will have more posts coming up--I actually have a few drafted that are just waiting for the gimlet eye of revision to be cast over them before I release them to the ether (yes, believe it or not, most of the stuff I publish here has actually been reread and often revised despite the scrawled-in-haste-on-two-squares-of-toilet-paper je ne sais quoi it embodies.)

And so, I give you a picture and two videos:

Act I: In Which The One True Child Finds Candy, after Just Having Stated to His Mother That "I Don't Want to Eat Real Food, I Just Want Candy."

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Act II, In Which We Explain Wordlessly Why The One True Child Should Not Ever Be Given Said Candy (and Possibly, Why Toddlers Even Look Cute Dressed as Old Men in Socks and Sandals):

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But this face? How can you deny this face the jellybeans it loves more than either one of its parents? Especially since this child gets more mileage out of 3 lousy jellybeans than most people would a 5-course meal?

(The strapping lad with the OTC in this picture is our neighbor, Xander, who has convinced me that the person who said all children should come with the older sibiling accessory was RIGHT RIGHT RIGHT on.)