Danger Mouse had some M&Ms the other night, a little Halloween-sized bag of them. She’s a candy-loving kind of kid. Sweet tooth – CHECK.
Anyway, so she’s eating those M&Ms about as fast as is humanly possible. And I’m doing other things. And she’s still eating them.
I looked over…
And she had six green M&Ms in front of her.
What are the chances, I asked myself, that my daughter just happened to end up with only green M&Ms?
“Danger Mouse, um, did you, uh, sort your M&Ms by color?” I asked carefully.
“Oh yes. I like to eat them by the colors.”
OH. MY. DAWG.
I have given my child my M&M OCD. I don’t even know how, because I don’t buy M&Ms in regular life, and thinking back can’t recall ever having eaten M&Ms in front of her. It isn’t that I can say I haven’t, but I can’t remember doing so.
In other words, this is not like the mommy monkey teaching her offspring to use a stick to fish termites out of a log for din-dins.
This is like some weird genetic knowledge my daughter has acquired.
Must. Eat. M&Ms. By. Color.
Every time I think they aren’t really my kids but are rather Mutant Aliens™ dropped here by the planet Zogworbhspblatt to observe human beings (namely the DH and myself) under conditions of severe stress, they do something like this, proving beyond a doubt there is, in fact, a true genetic link between us.