Taste The Rainbow
I have a strong affinity for skittles. Alright, fine, “affinity” might be too timid a word for my emotions towards those small sweet/sour treats, with just the right give as they slide between my teeth, yielding to my bite….
Far too many sins, once tried, bitterly disappointed, falling short of years of imagination (I’m looking at you McDonalds). Skittles, with each sugary kiss on my tongue, were the lightweight avaira champion, always performing better than I expected.
Although the miracle of a fetus growing within me is pretty darn amazing, almost equally impressive is the miracle of my dead sweet tooth, which has lost its raging control of my mouth since I became pregnant. But earlier this week, since my midwife encouraged me to eat all the ice cream I want because I’m on the low-range of recommended weight gain, I decided I would pick up a bag of my neglected, beloved skittles to snack on during the train ride into the city.
I ate them piece after colorful piece, with a growing sense of dismay. The strawberry tasted rancid, the chewy texture tired, the sweet rush forced and sickening. Still, refusing to believe my old favorite could let me down, I kept on going to the bottom of the bag, hoping each candy would reinspire me. But no such luck. I walked off the train nauseous with sugar and chemicals, stomach knotted and aching.
Was it a bad pack? Had my tastes changes so radically? Where my adolescent thrills irrelevant in my new grownup body? Is my fetus kashrus observant? Whatever the reason, I don’t think I’ll be reaching for that bright sinful bag again, anytime soon.
What I really need, I decided, as my blood sugar levels danced, is a slice of a childhood treat, a safe kosher-certified delight – a piece of soft, warm gooey kakush cake…. Korn’s beware… I’ve got my sights on you….Printable Version