During a Sunday walk in Limassol I saw something that sparked this post. A little girl who could not have been younger than six years old was holding a carrot and attempting to feed it to a donkey that was pulling a carriage. Turns out this was something akin to mathematical problem solving because the mother could not have been more ecstatic that her daughter had figured out how to feed a carrot to a donkey. The word ‘bravo’ was said more than five times. Clapping was involved and various other cheering effects.
But the cereal aisle. Man! Completely different situation.
In fact it may actually be far worse than the sweet aisle. The colourful packaging, the chocolate coating, the superheroes and the princesses and all that hidden sugar. And then of course comes the inevitable question: ‘But mummy its breakfast cereal! It’s not sweets! Why can’t I have it?’
Lately, Georgie’s been trying my patience. There are moments when it’s like I’m not even there, like my voice cannot be heard, like I have to do a silly dance or scream ‘F@£%’ at the top of my lungs. I actually haven’t tried that yet. Instead I thought I’d try a less crazy and more creative route.
