She’d told me that it was the typical after-school scene in the grocery store. The aisles were crowded with hungry, overwrought children being herded about by their hungry, overwrought mothers. Jane was one of them — trying to pull together a decent family meal at the end of the day. But it felt too late to start anything and besides she felt too tired to care. Her children, ages 7 & 9, ran amok down the cereal aisle as if by osmosis their little bodies had already absorbed the preservatives, refined sugar and food coloring just from being around the stuff. She said that when she’s by herself she rushes past that aisle averting her eyes from Count Chocula’s fangs and Cartoon Network characters that hawk product. I have to agree with her. It’s the scariest aisle in the store. To me it’s like a techno-colored purgatory under fluorescent lights — piled high with processed sugar and starch.

Her children, sensing her weakened state, converged around a box of toastie-sweetened-crunchy-whatevers that advertised 11 essential vitamins, iron and low fat. It also claimed to contain the hottest super-cool-must-have toy. They rallied around it, trying to convince her that their cereal lust had nothing to do with the prize inside but that it had everything to do with its nutritious contents. No amount of yoga breathing was going to help calm Jane’s nerves and besides, they outnumbered her 2-to-1. She had to pick her battle. Dig in and walk away without a box of the toastie-sweetened-chrunchies-whatevers or submit. In her last cleansing breath, she chose a path and gave in.

In the car the kids knew better than to gloat about their victory. It was a coup and the chances of it happening again were slim to none. They coveted that box and envisioned how fabulous it was going to look next to the oatmeal and granola. At home, Jane immediately emptied it into a big bowl so the kids could get at the prize without making a mess. Then, she said, what happened next wasn’t a premeditated act on her part — it was more like basic instinct, like what a lioness would do to protect her cubs from danger. Right there in front of her children, she dumped every last green marshmallow and color-changing crumb into the garbage can. Her kids were shocked and thought she’d lost her mind. ‘We were going to eat that’ they said, ‘what are you doing?’ Jane’s body trembled but her voice was strong. She told them, ‘I’m sorry but you’ve been tricked, fooled. This isn’t really food and it’s not really good for you. Food doesn’t come with toys. The company put that in there just to get you to want it.’ Her kids were confused and said ‘But you’re not supposed to waste food.’ ‘Yes’, she said, ‘it’s wrong to waste. But I don’t want you to think that cereal is real food.’ The kitchen went quiet. The three of them stood there looking at each other. Then the kids left, leaving the toy behind, and Jane took out the trash.

Today, she told me that she looks back at it as an inspired moment, a moment of clarity – and as an act of defiance against marketing schemes that target children. She said it felt so good to throw that cereal away and even scare the kids a bit. Now they never harass her to buy junk food like that anymore. They’re embarrassed and feel bad at how they nagged her. I asked the kids if they really do like the taste of that sugary weird colored cereal. ‘Oh yeah’ they said ‘but we never ask Mom to buy it. We eat it at our friends’ house instead.’