Labels are an interesting thing. We now label our children in an attempt to excuse away poor parenting. We have labels on our clothing in an effort to stay on top of Who's Who in fashion. I admit to being particularly fond of Hanes who started the tagless labels. We also have warning labels - inspired by those with a noticeable lack of common sense.

The labels I find most helpful are product labels. They help keep me straight between the raspberry-lime gatorade and the strawberry-kiwi gatorade. However, my children have an aversion to labels and I am left guessing as the exact flavor of gatorade that has been left on the kitchen table. As a mom, I am not against drinking the remains of a child's beverage provided there are no noticeable floaties. And gatorade is gatorade after all, regardless of claimed flavor so my annoyance with the loss of labels is generally aimed at the children's total disregard of the trashcan which is usually less than 2 feet away from the discarded label.

But it is a sign of the kids getting older as they are now able to climb onto counter tops in search of food. I encourage self-sufficiency. Unfortunately, Rachel has combined the climb for independence with her aversion to labels and I now have a pantry of unmarked cans. Gives a whole new meaning to mystery meat.


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