Like all toddlers, Z has a “snack bag” or “snack box”. (If your toddler doesn’t have one, he or she is a deviant and will likely grow up to be the greatest serial killer the world has ever known. Or cure cancer. One or the other. No other options.)
It evolved over time.
First, it contained “stars” – star-shaped oatmeal snacks.
Then it had corn flakes.
Then it had some ring or “O”-shaped oatmeal snacks (sort of a plain “Cheerios”). Then animal-shaped biscuits.
Then we started to mix them up.
Especially when she liked a particular snack. For example, she liked the blueberry flavoured “stars”. So she would pick them all first.
Then ask for more.
And she would know (eventually) where we kept the main packs of the snacks are.
And get her grandma to get it for her.
And grandma being grandma (like all grandmas everywhere), would get it for her.
So it became rather difficult to give her new snacks, without creating a new craving, or to displace the old snacks.
So when we found a new potato-based snack (and this really is an “adult” snack, as in, it is not a healthy snack intended for toddlers – all flour, and salt and spices), I wanted to let her have a little.
Because it was pretty good.
Walla Walla is a snack inspired by “Twisties” – it is curled or corkscrew-shaped, and the “Spice Spice Baby” flavour has a nice spicy kick to it.
After PL & I had enjoyed the snack (late at night after Z was in bed), I wanted Z to have a chance to enjoy Walla Walla too.
So I added a few pieces to her snack box.
I wasn’t around to watch her eat it but PL reports that she was intrigued by it. And searched for more of it.
But was told there were no more.
So that evening, I wanted to give her some more Walla Walla, but didn’t want her to ask for more than I was willing to give.
So, I took one piece of the snack, and brought it to her, and said, “Zoe! I found this on the floor. Is this yours?”
She looked at it, and nodded. Then took it from my hand and ate it.
Then she came to me and said, “More-more!”
“No more,” I replied. “I found it around here,” I pointed vaguely to a part of the floor. “Maybe you can look around and see if there are any more there.”
I left her looking for more snacks on the floor.
I added Walla Walla to her snack box again, and I wondered what she made of it. Probably part of the mysterious world she lives in where unexpected pleasures sometimes avail themselves for no rhyme or reason.
You know, a “magical” childhood.
At least I hope that is what she thinks.