So, lately I have seen the buzz phrase “the Sarah Palin Kool-Aid.” My own father is apparently drinking it by the pitcher, diabetes be damned, even though she has nothing of substance to say and even though the bar is set so low for her that simply not effing up is a victory. So on top of everything else, I’m pondering how I dropped from that tree. But anyway, honestly (and for once), I’m not going on a political rant. The aforementioned phrase, coupled with some recent events of late, have made me think of real, actual Kool-Aid.

Remember Kool-Aid? The creepy talking pitcher that crashed every conceivable kid-related event while shouting its trademark “Oh, yeahhhhhhh!” catchphrase? No? Okay, then. We have a serious generation gap. Watch this and get back to me.

For most of my contemporaries, a non-talking pitcher of Kool-Aid was a constant in the fridge, and millions of Strawberry Shortcake and Benji and Happy Days thermoses were filled every morning with the stuff. My mom must have gotten some sort of super closeout steal on green Kool-Aid when I was in fourth grade, because she packed it for me every blessed day, even though the carcinogenic ADD-causing red flavors were clearly superior. In the summer, my siblings and I happily mixed up gallons of Kool-Aid, drank it, and occasionally froze it in plastic molds to make bastardized Popsicles. I still remember the recipe: mix 8 cups water, 1 cup sugar, and a packet of Kool-Aid, being careful not to get the powder on wet fingers lest it stain them for days.

The reason I bring all this up is that my kid will turn 5 in less than a month, and up until a few weeks ago, he had no idea that Kool-Aid even existed. That might still be the case had we not taken a fateful trip to Royal Farms for an after-school drink. He saw little plastic bottles of Kool-Aid in the cooler, inquired, and wore me down. He was hooked from the first sip.

I’m not the most stringent person when it comes to feeding my kid, mainly because he happily drinks water, eats broccoli, and begs to devour an entire canteloupe before your eyes. I figure (most) everything in moderation, and it all balances out. But he also eats a few too many hot dogs (see below, the ones wrapped in biscuits) and Happy Meals. Still, I try. I refuse to consider the Lunchables he begs me to buy, I water down juice, and I try to save soda for special occasions or particularly yucky medicine. Yet tonight, during an impromptu trip to the dollar store, I gave in when he asked for a six-pack of little Kool-Aid bottles and promised that yes, sometime we can buy Kool-Aid we can make ourselves at home.

I’m not sure what the deal is with me. I’m trying to find a comfort zone somewhere smack in the middle of “organic flax seed” and “Smuckers Uncrustables” (ick). I would still buy organic milk and eggs if they weren’t now $9 a gallon and $5 a dozen, but I would want to add some chocolate to the milk and some cheese to the eggs. I have to confess that I would love to mix up a big pitcher of Tropical Punch Kool-Aid, using the whole cup of sugar…but something inside me fights it. I would like to see him with the red moustache, though. 😉

Or maybe I’m just thinking about it entirely too much. Oh, yeah.

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