My children find it strange when I offer them bread for breakfast. They always seem to have other options to chose from, bread is always at the bottom of their preference. Some days they will opt for a glass of juice only, and any attempts at giving them a piece of toast to accompany the juice is met with a roll of the eyes. “Who are these people, and how can I possibly be related to them?” sometimes I am left wondering to myself. I remember the way my brothers and I were always hungry we could eat farm and house in one sitting, yet our children are picky eaters who will not accept a slice of bread for breakfast from a smiling, begging mother. The bread I try offering my children is nice and warm from the toaster with a choice of spreads to apply on it, but they still don’t want bread for breakfast. I have tried telling them about my childhood and how rare and precious bread was, we only ate it occasionally during celebrations or if we had visitors, while spreads were unheard of; even Blue Band, the most common of all spreads was not available in our homes.
My children look at me suspiciously wondering why I like telling them tall tales. They have a hard time believing me because the parents I am talking about are their sweet old grandma and grandpa who always has bread and other delicacies for them whenever they visit. My parents are really sweet and gentle with the grand kids, they make my horror stories of growing up in their home seem made up. “Where did my parents go?” I wonder. The harsh, no negotiations, tough as nails, uncompromising dictators who raised us, are now labeled “sweet” by my children, leaving me as the only bad guy in their midst. What can a woman do?
I have decided to chose my battles. This one I cannot win. I know these two hard headed camps just too well. I was raised by one, and I raised the other. Now they are allied against me. There is no way for me to win with these two generations that I am caught in between. I have therefore decided to keep my head down, lie low like an envelop and wait for my grandchildren and make them my allies. How about that?
