 We have solved the genetic code that will one day help us avert
dreaded genetic diseases before our children are born.We can
detect and sometimes predict natural and cataclysmic events with
precise technological devices.
Still, some questions remain unanswered. One such question has
dogged me through 27 years of parenthood: Why won't anyone drink the
last glassful of milk in the jug before opening a new one?
Is this a genetic disorder? It's possible, because my husband
shares this malady with all my children.
However, you would have thought that following certain rules of
evolution, this trait would have been watered down and perhaps
spread more thinly among our children. But, in fact, each child has
that exact propensity and has added to it in their own unique ways.
For the youngest child, eating a bowl of cereal that is not a
full bowl is poisonous. So, if the box does not contain a full bowl,
he opens a new box and, rather than waste time pouring from two
boxes, he simply pours a full bowl out of the new box. Thus, it
could be said that this child is mindful of his time. Old boxes of
cereal, however, can simply be left to rot.
He explains by saying that the "schnibbles" are too dusty.
If there are any aspiring inventors out there, here is a project
for you: How can one pour the last of the cereal without having to
eat the dust?
My daughter not only has the milk dregs and dust aversion, she
also will stop eating a piece of fruit at the halfway mark. She will
then place it in the refrigerator, thinking that she will finish it
later. "Later" is pretty ambiguous, however, and in our house,
"later" never becomes "now."
The result is a refrigerator full of what looks like shrunken
heads, along with milk jugs that have turned to curds and whey.
So... when exactly is later?
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 The 14-year-old has developed this disorder into a science.
Peanut butter is his medium. At any given time, there are
approximately a half-dozen jars of peanut butter in the cupboard,
each with just enough peanut butter in it to make one or two
sandwiches.
If there is a new jar, only one side of the jar has been defiled.
The virgin side still has the little curl on top that was made when
the jar was filled. What, I wonder, is his plan? I asked him this
question once. He said his plan was to take over the world.
I never asked again.
There does not seem to be any rhyme nor reason to his madness. He
only explains that the reason for the mostly finished jars is
because he hates it when his knife gets peanut butter on the handle.
Apparently, it is impossible to dig peanut butter out of the depths
of a jar without getting your knife slimy. And slimy knives are
apparently not acceptable for the future ruler of planet Earth. I
introduced him to a spatula five years ago, but the association
didn't stick. Why? I don't know.
These questions may never be answered.
[By LAURA SNYDER]
Laura Snyder is a nationally syndicated columnist,
author and speaker. You can reach her at
lsnyder@lauraonlife.com
or visit www.lauraonlife.com
for more info.
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