Only in front of other people

The other day I was at Paradise Foods, getting a couple of side dishes to take to a BBQ later in the day. One was an edamame salad, on the presumption that everyone in Mill Valley eats edamame. And a friend had introduced me to an 'arugula and corn' salad (odd, as the main ingredient is barley) that was a big hit at my in-laws' house, and I wanted to get something similarly healthful and yummy to take to this other friend's shindig.

The nice lady packing my salads remarked, "Boy, you're sure eating healthy!"

"Only in front of other people," I quipped.

"Ha, ha," she said.

"Ha, ha!" I said. "But seriously, I'm getting the potatoes with bacon for my own house tomorrow. And the cole slaw, heavy on the sour cream. The two salads are for a friend's party -- they're really just for show."

This is a good way to get a laugh out of people in fancy grocery stores here in Marin, or they shake their heads. Or sometimes they just look blank. Not that I go around saying it every minute, but every few weeks in a fit of self-deprecation I'll defend myself against imagined scorn by joking about how I get my Lucky Charms at odd hours because there's less chance that I'll run into one of the boys' teachers. Or about how I'll take the kids for fast food once or twice a month, but I won't let them eat inside. (Totally ridiculous because the only people I'd meet inside McDonald's are other perfectly normal people who eat there.) Or about how I sent plastic vegetables to Kindergarten in Adrian's lunchbox once because he doesn't eat the real ones, and I got tired of throwing all that great produce away after a couple of days of it being being carried back and forth to school.

I'm sure I'm imagining the judging looks in the checkout lines. Because as long as we're raising strong, healthy, bright kids who get enough sleep, exercise regularly, and brush their teeth, who cares if they drink a root beer from time to time? Or that they go through phases of eating only Cheerios, or string cheese, or bacon?

Me, I guess. And I hope nobody's watching now as I let them say no thank you to their salad ("Well, you know Daddy and I like when you try new things") and eat only a few bites of chicken. At least they're drinking their milk.

Only they just spilled the milk on the carpet while they were playing a 'strongest finger' game, so I guess this post is finished too.