When our daughter Sara was little, she would often watch as my wife prepared so many cakes for the customers of her small cake business. Sara saw the batter being mixed and the frosting being made and she often wanted to taste the sweet treats. My wife would usually indulge her with a little sample. Except for the Crisco. Sara often bugged her for a spoonful of the stuff that looked so creamy and delicious and my wife always refused. Sara relentlessly pestered for the false promise of the joy hydrogenated vegetable oil seemed to hold. Her mother knew better and told her she wouldn’t like it, but a child that young doesn’t know much, so eventually the insistence on getting her “sweet reward” paid off and a spoonful of Crisco was granted. The look of anticipation quickly turned to one of utter disgust and the joyous sense of gratitude flashed into the shock of abject maternal betrayal. The instantaneous contrast of emotions was striking.
I bring this up not to embarrass my daughter nor cast my wife as a mean mother. I bring it up because today, January 20, 2017, America got the “spoonful of Crisco” it has been clamoring for. This time it’s going to take a lot more than a cup of apple juice to get the taste out of our mouths and that greasy feeling is going to last several years. The wisdom of “Be careful what you wish for” can be difficult and disappointing.
Sara has never again shoved a spoonful of Crisco in her mouth. Let’s hope America can learn the same lesson.
This End Up 