Cody shifted a bit in his rocking chair, trying to find a present for himself. Another special Christmas bag, this one safety-pinned shut by me after a futile try at tying a red bow around the top.
He pulled out a box of Zone Bars. A decade or so ago, he went through a phase of trying to get most of his calories from artificial, “scientific foods” such as energy bars, performance powders, and other excessively processed products. As a child of the internet age, these concoctions seemed modern to him. He figured they would have all the nutrients he needed, without the fuss and bother of actually cooking or eating.
Growing up, Cheryl called Cody her “air plant”. He turned his nose up at most foods, and ate very little of the ones he would tolerate. This is partly my responsibility. I had the same predilections as a kid. I grew up on mashed potatoes and peanut butter/jelly sandwiches. Milk, green vegetables, eggs – all made me feel a bit sick to my stomach, so I stayed away from them. After a while, I began to tolerate sirloin steak, especially ground beef, and managed to grow up, but never got very big. I remain lean and a bit undersized, compared to both my father and my son.
But my father was intolerant of my eating peccadilloes. He groused, he yelled, he thundered, he threatened, he tried putting peas in mashed potatoes, tried making me sit at the table until my food was gone. It was there I learned how to exercise the stubbornness and independence I inherited from my mother. Eventually, after years of dinner table terrorism, I won, but not without being a little scarred for life.
So when my own son began to show the same symptoms of food avoidance, I was over-the-top tolerant of him. Basically, I abrogated any parental authority, insisting that, as far as I was concerned, he could eat any amount of anything he wanted, even if that meant he ate little to nothing of the simplest, blandest foods. Cheryl tried a bit, but without a united front from the both of us, Cody easily got his way with food.
He eventually grew to 6’2”, and is neither fat nor thin. And, wonder of wonders, he has taught himself to cook, and seeks out the finest foods he can from places like Trader Joe’s. So much so, that one of his presents this year, from Cheryl, was a gift certificate for TJ’s.
That’s another of his quirks. Archetypically messy as a teenager, we feared entering his room which was sure to be ankle deep in whatever detritus he threw down when he cam home. Clothes, papers, books, electronic gear – you name it, he waded around in it. Sometime in his mid-20s, as he re-created his eating habits, he also changed his relationship to stuff. He would have as little as possible, so that he would have little to clean up. Thus, he prefers not to get actual physical presents, preferring things like food or digital products, which either take no space to begin with, or will disappear quickly.
Oh, and this is a guy who, when he bought his one and only car (which he no longer uses), decided on one so small, that if you got in trouble and it broke down, you could just pick it up and put it in your pocket – the Smart Car.
So, his Christmas this year consisted six boxes of Oregon Chai Tea mix, gift certificates to TJ’s and REI (he does admit to needing clothes, at least enough to allow him to wear some while washing others), and the aforementioned Zone Bars. They were meant to be a slightly silly recollection of his energy bar diet days, and he saw the joke right away.
I had bought them at Costco, along with the Chai Tea. Costco packages things so you get some you like, and some you might not otherwise buy. Zone Bars come as Fudge Graham (we like those) and Chocolate Peanut Butter (not so much.) I had eaten two of the Fudge bars, intending to keep the Chocolate Peanut butter for myself, knowing Cody would turn his nose at them – a father’s protection appearing in the guise of a Christmas gift.
“Oh, boy, Zone bars” Cody hollered.
“Those are the Fudge Grahams”
“I like those”
“Yeah, I know, I kept the Chocolate Peanut Butter ones for myself. But I had to eat two of the Fudge Bars – I mean, I needed them a couple of mornings after swimming.”
“Oh, that’s great, that makes them perfect – these are the best present. From my dad, but he took two of them cause he likes them. Just the way it should be.”
(To be cont’d)