I'm walking around Center City, looking for Jiffy Pop.
Can't find it, so I'm probably gonna have to go to the damn supermarket back at home. The reason I'm looking for it is because of the request made by three extremely cute children as I was leaving the home this morning. It's Family Movie Night, and they said that we haven't done popcorn in a while, and they are obsessed with Jiffy Pop for some reason.
Something that I'm pretty strict about is... well no, "strict" isn't the right word. It's more like I believe in certain ideals and I try to impress those ideals upon my children. One of my ideals is that we cannot find happiness through BUYING SHIT. The society that we currently live in wants us to believe that consumerism is the pathway to emotional well-being, and it's all a fucking lie. No matter how many little useless trinkets these kids buy at Target, these will never be satisfied, and they will never be happy. We talked about this after reading The Giving Tree the other night (not my decision, but the timing worked great), how the only character who is happy is the tree, because they give themselves away, and the other character, the boy, is fucking miserable and that is because he takes and he takes and he takes. So I refuse to partake in it. I don't get upset when Pam comes home from running errands saying "well they kept whining so I bought them something," but if I'm the one running errands, the kids know not to ask for some bullshit, and when we get home, they don't whine or complain, they are happier than they even understand.
The request for Jiffy Pop does not fall into this category, however. Food and experiences don't count as consumerism, for the most part. I'm gonna get them the damn Jiffy Pop, because that makes them happy, no ironic quotation marks required. I want my kids to be happy, so fucking sue me if they just need a little guidance in that regard sometimes. Other times, we're all on the same page. I'll find the Jiffy Pop for Family Movie Night.
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