“She’s mooching again.” Debbie held a donut over her head.
We have an extremely unhealthy habit here on weekends. We buy donuts. Not donuts from nationally famous brands.
Lamar’s donuts. A Ft. Collins phenomena. Better than anything I’ve ever eaten. Melt-in-your mouth donuts that have your arteries screaming in protest and your taste buds floating on clouds of donut heaven.
Sloane, at just a year, has become the youngest foodie I know.
She loves her donuts.
Brooklyn, almost seven months older, doesn’t get as excited. She’d just as soon eat fruit.
However, she’s living in an apartment with Nana, Papa and a variety of aunts, uncles and cousins parading through. All of whom tend to share sweets freely.
Mom and Dad may say enough.
Grandparent privilege allows us to sneak in another bite. Just a little. Of course we get the stink eye for our efforts. It’s not healthy. When my kids were little, I did more than the stink eye.
Who’s going to spoil these grands if we don’t?
Do we all pay the consequences when the kids have too much sugar?
They don’t want to sleep or slow down. They get loud and demanding. Can throw fits if they don’t get their way. Their way is unlimited sugar.
Just because they want it, is that really a good reason to give it to them?
Nana privilege can go over the top. I’ve been reminded more than once by my own kids that giving the littles what they want will make all of us pay later.
I know that.
But they’re so cute when they beg.
Temptation is a tricky business. I want to be the favorite Nana, the one the kids love to be around. Too often I throw caution to the wind and allow something I know isn’t good for them–like more sugar–just because I want them to think I’m the best.
Life temptations are tricky business. There are things I think I want, things I think I deserve. If I had them, I’d be fine.
Those aren’t the things that ever satisfy. I usually want the things I can’t or shouldn’t have. Not having them makes me want them more. When I see others with those things, I begin to act entitled. As if having what I want is my right.
The world offers temptations that aren’t good for any of us. Things that, taken to an extreme, become the controlling factor in our lives.
I can mindfully sanitize such slave drivers, justifying why I should have what my heart craves.
Jesus reminds me that the things of this world aren’t what will make me satisfied. They’ll just take me down a slippery slope of diminishing returns–wanting more, and when I get it, wanting still more.
Only Jesus can satisfy my heart needs. What He offers lasts.
Forgiveness, acceptance, being truly known, unconditional love.
Stuff that won’t wear out, become boring or ruin my teeth.
That’s the kind of real satisfaction I’m talking about.