Ooey Gooeys

I came home from my writer's group meeting on a sugar high... having eaten too many doughnuts (one and several munchkins) and no real food. By 1:15 p.m. I was miserable, in a grumpy mood from sugar and caffeine crash. My husband made me this quick egg sandwich with lots and lots of monterey jack cheese and one of my favorite mustards (Inglehoffer Sweet Hot). Immediately, I seemed more like my usual self.

It was an ooey gooey egg sandwich. I suppose my husband did it on purpose to get extra protein into me. We like ooey gooeys in this house. Anything so full of stuffing it becomes drippy becomes an ooey gooey. We've had ooey gooey grilled cheese, ooey gooey egg sandwiches and, my daughter's favorite, ooey gooey peanut butter and jelly.

We didn't eat at home yesterday, because we spent the day with various relatives. This morning, my daughter had leftover pancakes and my husband had leftover omelette (which my daughter had ordered for dinner last night, a three-egg broccoli cheese omelette with homefries, rye toast and a side of Italian wedding soup). And somehow I ended up with the leftover doughnuts from the meeting so we each had a munchkin.

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But then I hit a "self-righteous" spell. I put that in quotes because it's my husband's favorite terms and my attitude towards food can often make us bicker. We had an episode earlier this week where too much orange juice and not enough water irritated my daughter's skin. So my husband has been hesitant to let her have OJ. We don't have any other juice. We don't have the chocolate soy milk or chocolate organic milk we often buy for our daughter. My father-in-law and my mother had both purchased bottles of chocolate syrup this week and left them here, so my husband made chocolate milk.

I gave him a dirty look. And our daughter started pointing at me and copping attitude about where the chocolate syrup came from. So, I threw it all away. My husband became irritated that I did not support his parenting decision to give her the chocolate milk. I was angry with our daughter's attitude with me and felt he was projecting his dislike of plain milk onto our daughter. And then he added that I don't ever want her to have treats. (Munchkins for breakfast, that's all I'm saying.)

While he is correct that I spend too much time on my nutrition high horse, he does not see how much chocolate milk goes into this kid on a regular basis. She spends about 20-24 hours a week with her grandparents where they give her all the chocolate milk she wants, all the prepackaged high fructose corn syrup kind. And lollipops and tastykakes.

At my dad's last night, my daughter rooted through the refrigerator and asked if she could have a carrot. My dad washed it for her and handed it to her. Unpeeled. No dip. And she chomped it just like Bugs Bunny.