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Laura Bennett, the architect cum fashion designer cum writer, published a withering column this weekend attacking an anonymous mother who wanted to revoke her ex-husband’s custody rights because of some unpardonable sin he committed against their kids. Writes Bennett:
She told me that he had crossed a line with her kids on a recent visitation, and she was going to have her lawyer work on getting his joint custody rights revoked. She felt her case was ironclad, he had “obviously acted wrongly” and “anyone would agree with her.”
“What did he do?” I had to ask, bracing myself for some juicy gossip. Surely this would involve sex and drugs, his babe girlfriend naked, or strippers at the very least.
And then she told me her ex’s transgressions. He had packed a non-organic lunch for her sons. Seriously. She went on to describe the brown bags loaded with Cheetos, Go-gurt, and a sandwich that was made with white bread.
Once Bennett recovered from her slack-jawed shock, she let the off-the-beaten trail mix mom have it with both barrels—-from the safety of her computer screen where she typed up this rant for The Daily Beast. Bennett has a point, several in fact, even if she didn’t have nads, so to speak, to confront the crunchy, lunatic mom in person. Here is Bennett’s main gripe:
I just want to let the food Nazi moms in on what happens when your kids come to a house where junk food inhabits the pantry. They have no decision-making skills or sense of moderation when faced with the forbidden fruit roll-up. Like deprived animals, they are determined to consume the lifetime allotment of sugar they have been denied; all before pickup. I have seen one such child eat Swiss Miss Cocoa with a spoon directly out of the family-size container, only to move on to conquer a box of frosted strawberry Pop-Tarts. When faced with not one but three brands of chips, they become apoplectic and run from the kitchen clutching bags of Cool Ranch Doritos and French onion-flavored Sun Chips, later to be found in a corner curled up in the fetal position surrounded by wrappers, unable to state their name.
Bennett’s no mere empty-nester pundit either. She has experience—-and then some. She’s the mother of six kids.