Back in the 70s, one of the kids in my day care group was forbidden from eating additives and preservatives. That meant that he was on a special diet. He couldn’t eat the food that the rest of us ate. Like hotdogs. The only reason it sticks in my mind was that I remember he was served a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in a hot dog bun – that seemed to so wrong to me. I still hate non-purposive bun usage.
And why couldn’t he eat the hot dog for which the bun was intended? Because his parents claimed the chemicals in it would make him hyper. Crazy hippies. He wasn’t badly behaved, at least from what I can remember. But he had to suffer a PBJ on the wrong bread.
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Turns out my nursery mate’s parents had the right idea. Apparently all that gook in the food will make kids go crazy. I heard about this in the news briefly and thought – hmmm, as a parent*, maybe I should check that out, maybe you know – do an Internet search. But I didn’t, I couldn’t seem to stay focused. I dunno, coulda been the fruit loops.
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Fortunately, The Crone Speaks did link the story.
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* hey, I think that’s the first time I’ve used the “as a parent” phrase.
The Vol Abroad 