I really need to quit snacking on my kids’ Goldfish crackers. Every time I devour half a bag, I’m left with an uncomfortable wave of regret. The nightly ritual of mom munchies kicks in, as it does without fail.
Dinner often leaves me feeling unsatisfied for a few reasons: A) I barely have a moment to eat amid my kids’ endless demands, B) I end up finishing their leftover bites, and C) I’m “trying” to shed those pesky baby pounds (my “baby” is now nearly 4 years old, but who’s counting?). Regardless, I’m left feeling ravenous post-dinner.
My stomach growls through the bath routine and storytime, and like clockwork, the cheesy crackers beckon me from the pantry once I finally settle down on the couch. It’s almost poetic, really—the way Goldfish lure me in, glowing softly in the pantry under the dim light of my living room, amidst the serene silence of sleeping children.
I make my move, tiptoeing to the pantry and flinging open the door. Those little fish-shaped snacks, in their bright orange bag, seem to wink at me. Their adorable little mouths seem to whisper, “You know you want us.” It feels like they’re practically begging to be devoured.
My love for Goldfish started back in my childhood when they were just plain cheesy—not the rainbow-colored, fudge-flavored, or triple cheese varieties we have today. Seriously, there are 15 different flavors now! As I spot the classic cheddar staring back at me, I decide to indulge in a few handfuls. Just a few, right? It can’t hurt.
I sink back onto the couch with the bag in hand, and before I know it, I’m mindlessly shoveling them in, like a snack-crazed fiend. I end up with salt smeared on my lips, feeling a mix of disgust and shame. I’ve surrendered my body to those empty calories and am now facing the consequences—Sodium Tuberosity Distention, or in simpler terms, bloat from all that salt.
I drift off into a salty, carb-induced slumber, waking up the next day with an inflated belly. Determined to do better, I vow to stick to fruits and veggies all day. But as sunset approaches, the Goldfish call to me once again. This time, I promise it’ll be different. Oh, and I also have my eye on a Flintstone push pop for dessert.
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Summary:
In the nightly struggle against the allure of kids’ snacks, the author humorously reflects on her battle with Goldfish crackers and the challenges of parenting. As she navigates dinner demands and her own cravings, she recognizes the cycle of indulgence and regret. The article serves as a relatable reminder for moms everywhere about the temptations of snack time.