MUTHA-GILT!

Motherguilt.  Admit it.  If you have pushed out offspring chances are you contracted Motherguilt soon afterwards.  I'm led to believe it is terminal, or was that eternal?  Whatever.  I just know that I'm buckling under the weight of this affliction.
Todays self flagellation was over a packet of Grain Waves chips.
Thing One, who has large limpid eyes not unlike a Jersey cow, asked if he could "go over to the shop".
"No," I replied whilst opening the mail.
"Buuuut yooouuuu saaaaiiiiidd we could gooooo yesterdaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay," big fat tears are welling in those huge brown eyes. Anyone would think I'd just eaten his guinea pig.
"I said no. I mean no. End of story,"  because I am Hitler's granddaughter.
*Sob*
"FORCRYINGOUTLOUD!"
*Louder sob*
"What sort of mother would I be if I let you eat sugary salty fatty nutrient deficient foods everytime you asked huh? HUH?"
*stifling sob*
"I have RESPONSIBILITIES.  If I let you eat those chips, well, you could end up with diabetes at the age of 13!"
*sniff* "What's diabedes?"
"It's when your legs go rotten and they chop them off, after you've gone blind!"
Thing One is quiet and I continue to read the Radio Rentals catalogue.
Motherguilt begins in my throat and moves south.
"Do you want.....ahhh....strawberry.....milk?"
"No thanks."
My child is going to need therapy now.  He'll probably never go to another birthday party.  He will recoil in horror at cupcakes and banana bread.
Motherguilt.