I’m a “do you” kind of parent. Breast or bottle, cloth or disposable, flashcards or screen time, whatever it takes to get you from the newborn days to high school graduation is fine by me. But if I had to offer one piece of advice to new moms, it would be this: Whatever you do, don’t feed your kid Goldfish crackers.
No, this isn’t some rant about the evils of artificial flavorings or a monologue on how delicious carbs are slowing killing us all (but if they are, it’s worth it). I say this because those tiny fish have are ruining my life, and unlike your neighbor that keeps trying to talk to you about selling handbags, I don’t believe misery loves company.
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Toddlers are cute, but they’re also clumsy, meaning that approximate 35% of whatever snack you give them is going to end up on the floor. Even if you hover over your kids in a way that would make any self-proclaimed helicopter parent proud, eventually a fish is going to go rogue. And when you step on a Goldfish cracker, it doesn’t just crumble, it disintegrates into 3,456,472 sub-atomic particles that no amount of vacuuming or mopping can fully clean up. So unless you’re cool with the bottom of your feet constantly looking like you’ve just applied cheap self-tanner, move on down the cracker aisle to something square-shaped and sturdy.
It’s not just your floors that will never recover. Inevitably, your child, having a refined palate, will recognize that Goldfish are superior to all other snacks and ask for them in the car. And you’ll say okay, because you’re still recovering from this morning’s “No You Can’t Watch Another Episode of Daniel Tiger” meltdown. Congratulations! Your car is now a cheddar-scented aquarium, with schools of fish appearing under your child’s bottom every time you lift him out of the car seat. You can vacuum the car all you want, but your kid will be old enough to drive and there will still be random fish shaped crackers spilling out from between the seat cushions.
However, the real reason Goldfish are diabolical isn’t because they are messy. It’s because they are delicious. They seem like a boring snack grownups wouldn’t be interested in, but those goofy smiles are actually evil grins.
When you’re making lunch for the kiddos and you realize you never had breakfast, you’ll reach in and grab some Goldfish from the bag that’s sitting on the counter. And those first few fish go down nice and smooth, so you reach in and grab another handful. You’ll probably flip the bag over to scan the nutritional facts while you’re waiting for the grilled cheese to finish toasting and you’ll notice that 55 fish is a mere 140 calories. Not awful, you’ll think. I can munch a couple more.
Then because you still didn’t put the bag away and you’re frustrated because your child tore his diaper off and only took three bites of his sandwich, when you’re standing at the sink polishing off the rejected grilled cheese, you”ll wash it down with another fistful of crackers to make it a full meal. The next thing you know, your hand is brushing the bottom of the bag and you’re hit with equal parts shame and extreme thirst.
Don’t try to tell yourself that you’re in control, that you can stop buying them at any time. I believed that too once, and yet somehow every week I get home to unpack the groceries and discover at least two bags of Goldfish tucked among the cereal boxes, purchased in a fugue state caused by lack of sleep and low blood sugar. The fish always win.
It’s too late for me. My floors are now permanently orange and I’ve moved beyond the salty flavors to the vanilla cupcake Goldfish, which are somehow even better. There’s no turning back now. But you can make my sacrifice mean something by saving yourself. Don’t feed your kids Goldfish crackers. Try Triscuits. There’s no way those things are habit forming.
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