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Sweet Little Lies at Starbucks

A large part of my parenting strategy is based on a web of lies I tell my children. Yes, I've confessed it, felt bad about it, and now accept it. Some lies are for their benefit. Like how my kids think that the tradition on Halloween is to trick-or-treat around your neighborhood, and then put that candy into a bowl at your house to pass out to other kids. Or the way I tell them that our tv doesn't get SpongeBob or PowerRangers, only Sesame Street and Little Bill. And rigging up two monitors to one computer so my toddler thinks she's playing a game while her older brother operates the mouse?  A genius moment in parenting, if I do say so myself.

And then some lies are strictly for my own selfish motives. Like when we took their piggy banks to the coin counting machine, and I stealthily pocketed $144 while handing each of them a dollar bill. Or the way I have convinced them that the Naked Green Juice at Starbucks, when poured into a coffee cup, is indeed coffee.

My Starbucks ruse has worked out pretty well for me so far. I'm not a Starbucks freak, but a few times I month I like to go sit in a comfy chair, sip a sweet drink, and listen to a soundtrack of Joni Mitchell wannabes. And if I split the Green Juice into small coffee cups, my kids will sit quietly for a while, too, feeling important with their grown-up "coffee" in a cup like mine. And their drink is under $3 and actually pretty nutritious.

This all came crashing down yesterday, when my oldest ran ahead of me as we walked in the door of the local Starbucks. Before I could make it to the counter and give the barista a pleading, "help-me-out-dude" look, Jafta was there handing the guy a jug of Green Juice and calling it coffee.

"That's not coffee, son. Would you like a hot chocolate?"

AUUGHH!!! Listen, you glib 20-something hipster. Not only have you ruined my lie, but now my son knows a piping hot sugary chocolate drink is available to him here?  Things will never be the same.

So my Starbucks break was spent coaching Jafta to slow down on the hot chocolate lest he burn his tongue, and trying to shush him as he gleefully shouted to his sister, "that's not really coffee! that's not really coffee!"

Thanks for nothing, Starbucks guy.

Original Orange County Moms Blog post. Kristen drinks a skinny latte with extra foam, and blogs at Rage Against the Minivan.


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