Are my kids the only toddlers in the nation OBSESSED with food? Well, actually, don’t tell me. If the majority of your kids are not obsessed with food, it will probably just give me some weird-ass, unnecessary complex that will of course trickle down to my personal body image because — well — doesn’t everything when you’re a woman? But that is besides the point; my kid is OBSESSED with food and it drives me BONKERS.

Yesterday Matty and I took an early morning trip to Target with two things items on our shopping list: an inflatable pool and milk. Of course, because it’s Target, we left with, like, eighty some dollars worth of stuff including a hand-picked bag of Goldfish. Can we talk about this for a minute? So, for reasons I will not disclose (aka Seth made me), we were in the cracker/cookie/snack aisle and Matty politely asked me if he could get some Goldfish. I glanced over at the entire end cap of Goldfish, scanning the varieties as I noticed Matty was also doing. I didn’t really care so I threw a bag in the cart. You would have thought I threw a fucking palette of Nose Fridas in there the way he reacted, apparently the OG kind is not what he had in mind.

“No, Mama! Not those ones!”
“Okay, what ones, Matty? For eff’s sake.”
“THOSE ONES!”
“These ones?”
“NO! Those ones!”
“These ones?”
“NOOOOO! THOSE. ONES!”
“Oh my freaking gosh for the love of sweet Jesus – touch them, Matty! Which ones do you want?! Touch the bag you want.”
“THESE!”
“Ew. What are those? Mint chocolate and pretzel?! Oh my God. Whatever. Put them in the cart. And calm down. It’s not the end of the world.
“Can I open them, Mama? Can I have some?”
“You can have some when we get to the car.”
“Okay! Can I hold the bag? I’m going to hold the bag, okay?”
“I don’t care but do not open them. Do you understand? Do not open it.”
“Okay! I’m going to hold the bag and when we get to the car I’m going to eat them and hold the bag. Okay, Mama?”

Do you see what I’m talking about? It’s not enough for him to just be told he’s going to get some in the car, he has to clarify that he will be able to eat them out of the bag when we get into the car while we’re still in the store and no where near the car. What is the MFing difference?! This drives me bonkers, but it doesn’t stop there, you guys. When we finally get to the car and I don’t let him have the bag, but instead give him some in the cupholder of his carseat he has to argue about it. And then, when he doesn’t get his way, he has to check on the location of the bag of disgusting chocolate mint and pretzel Goldfish every 20 seconds.

“Mama, where are my crackers?”
“They are right here in this seat.”
“Oh.”

Twenty seconds later

“Mama, I’m going to eat these crackers all gone and then I’m going to get more, okay?”
“We’ll see.”
“Where are the crackers, Mama?”
“They’re right here, Matheson.”
“Oh.”

Twenty seconds later

“Mama, do you want a cracker?”
“No thanks, bud.”
“Well, I’m going to eat these gone and then I’ll get more. Okay?”
“Matheson. Please stop talking about the crackers, okay?”
“Okay. But. Where are they?”
“You know where they are.”
“Well, can I see them?”
“No.”

SERIOUSLY? And it didn’t stop there. When we got home Matty insisted on finishing his crackers before he got out of the car. He sat there eating each fish one by one. He would chew one up carefully, swallow it, look up at me and give me a big corny smile and then putting another one in his mouth to repeat the cycle. By the fourth fish, I was overflowing with impatience.

“Matheson. I’m not going to stand here while you eat the rest of your fish. Come on.”
“No, Mama. I need to eat these.”
“No, you don’t. They’ll be fine.”
“Should I leave them here for later?”
“Whatever you want to do but you’re getting out of the car.”
“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm….”
“Matheson.”
“OKAY! I’ll leave them but I can get more inside?”
“I need you to stop asking me for more fish. You didn’t even eat those!”
“Well, you’re making me get out!”

WTF. Sometimes I honestly worry that maybe Matty has a weird tick where he hyper-focuses and his brain just can’t reset. I mean, to be fair, sometimes I worry I have the same weird ass tick but never in relation to food (THANK YOU SWEET JESUS). When we got inside Matty and I were bickering about the bag of Goldfish – where they were, if Matty was getting more, if he had to share with Abbott, if I wanted some and if Matty could hold them. Clearly annoyed, Seth cut in.

“I take it the trip to the store wasn’t good?”
“I just can’t take it anymore. All he talks about is food. He is OBSESSED with food!”
“I think all kids are obsessed with food, babe.”
“These are all he’s talked about for the last 45 minutes. I can’t handle it. Where are they, Mama? Can I have more? Can I hold them? UGH!”
“Ok, you need to calm down.”
Matty interrupted us.
“Dada, can I have more fish?”

You guys. Can you even imagine what it’s like around here when we buy snacks that are actually delicious? Seriously. I hope at least some of you can relate because if you can’t, I’m not sure you’re really living.

Actually, that’s a lie. You are actually living while I’m stuck in a whirlwind of mind-numbing conversations about gross Goldfish, applesauce, bomb pops, candy and popcorn.

THINK OF ME FONDLY UP THERE IN THE LIGHT!!!!!