Oh I Wish I Was an Oscar Myer Weiner....
Current mood: ashamed
Category: Food and Restaurants
Monday, June 23, 2008
I may have scarred my daughter permanently this weekend - I mean on par with telling her there is no Santa Clause or Easter Bunny.
Both she and Sebastian had been singing the Oscar Myer Weiner ditty for days. And, while in the car on the way to the grocery on Sunday, Isabelle turned to me mid-song and said "Do you know that song, Mommy?"
"Well...of course," I answered. "I've known that song since I was a little girl like you."
"How did you learn it?"
"From the commercial"
[blank stare]
"You know...the TV commercial"
[another blank stare]
"But it's not on TV, Mommy, It's a song" Isabelle insists.
As if I'm the retarded one here.
After trying to no avail for several minutes to convince her that the cute little song they'd been singing in a continuous loop since Thursday morning was actually created to sell Hot Dogs, I assured Isabelle that I'd show her what I meant when we got to the store.
Once all three kids were settled in the cart (no, really, they do all fit) we wheeled on over to the refrigerated section. I plucked a package of Weiners, (Made with Turkey! (ew).) and proferred them to the two seated in the back of the cart.
Isabelle promptly burst into tears.
I got the hate stare from both the young, non-mother to my left, who seemed apalled that my child would have reason to cry amongst the packaged meats; and from the free-sample lady. Personally, I feel that anyone wearing oversized plastic gloves and a hair net while serving sample cups of triscuits probably doesn't have much to make others feel bad about - but I got the stare nontheless.
Apparantly, I should have left well enough alone.
Who am I to disillusion the kid about her favorite new song?
Now I'm on a mission find one of those little Weenie Whistles to make up for it...
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