Post # 271
I came up from the Man Cave the other afternoon to find a bag of baby carrots on the counter, opened. I stopped and looked at them, knowing my wife had been throwing “old” stuff away. I looked at the carrots and asked if they were on their way out? She replied they are for our snack. Interesting, unless we have company, formal snacks are not usually on our day calendar. Secondly, they were lying next to a package of mini-muffins that seemed to me a MORE appropriate item for an afternoon snack.
I prefer to focus my snack list on sweet items in the afternoon and salty things at night. I have too much sodium in my system, so says my blood pressure, but chips, crackers, popcorn just keep calling my name.
Ok, I had a couple of carrots and quickly walked away from the mini-muffins. I began to remember that carrots, in any form, has never been very high on my list of desirables. Neither did my eldest son like cooked carrots, then OR now. I recall our first and last disagreement concerning his refusal to eat cooked carrots. I demanded he eat the things or throw up on his plate. He ate AND threw up! This was the last of my carrot demands.
As a child I was told that carrots were good for your eyes. I think that is a story made up by parents to either get their kids to eat carrots or to make them feel guilty when they need glasses. I come from a family that needs glasses, contacts or Lasik. I recall when I was told I needed glasses. I envisioned it to be the worst thing in the world. After all, who ever saw a cowboy wearing glasses? No, not one of my cowboy hero’s wore glasses. I was doomed to be thrown out of the cowboy society. It was about third or fourth grade that I learned of my doom. At one recess, I sat outside away from all the other kids, head bowed in concern, waiting for someone to notice, so I could share the news of my misfortune. No one noticed, or no one cared, for no one came over, not even a teacher There I sat all alone, waiting for the attention that never came.
So, as I thought about those carrots on my counter, I thought about my eyes, and then I thought about my oldest grandson. It wasn’t long ago that he was the first of our grandchildren to require eye ware. Our first encounter with he and his glasses was during a family gathering-meal. Sure enough a bowl of baby carrots was part of the offering. He grabbed a large handful and proudly announced that carrots are good for your eyes. I was heart broken for him, I could just tell that he believed that if he ate enough carrots, he would reverse his need for glasses.
I’ve been wearing glasses for 58 years. No, I was never inducted into the Cowboy Society, cowboys don’t wear glasses. Of course my need for glasses had less to do with carrots and more to do with how the dimension of my skull growth in relation to vision.
I think my wife went outside, maybe I can sneak out of the Man Cave and get a mini-muffin.