Enter the Mommy Tax. The Mommy Tax has been in effect ever since my eldest child took his first bite of banana baby food. Mmmm. Some for you, and some for me! Now hush. It is just a little taste. Who do you think bought this baby food for you anyway?
The Mommy Tax allows me to sip a smidge off the top of each juice box that I stick a straw into (also an effective defense against spills resulting from the inevitable box-squeeze), and sample a nibble of each cookie, cupcake, brownie or other morsel that passes through my hands to theirs.
Do not be confused. Some sampling I do may look like taxation, but it is really just scooping up after the horses. Take for instance, the summer standard drippy-ice-cream-cone. I know that my kid is going to let half that ice cream lop off the cone onto the ground, so I have to run a little interference. A quick run of the tongue around the part where the ice cream meets the cone renders the treat sanitary for the next 30 seconds or so. Performing this task is an essential part of being a mom. Plus, it is a great diet aid because since I already tasted it, I don't have to get a whole cone for myself! The only downside is that my kids usually choose the nastiest of all the 31 flavors at Baskin Robbins. You know that bright blue tub of ice cream with a name like "Mega Bubble Gum Blast" that you always looked at and wondered "Who on earth would honestly eat that?" My kids would, and so I get to also.
I would much rather mooch the obligatory chocolate covered Raisinette out of their pouch at the movie theater. I don't mind stirring the pink milk as long as I can take a sip before handing it over, and I enjoy taking the paper off of a cupcake because a dab of frosting always ends up on my finger.
Now that I write it out, I feel a little like the Sheriff of Nottingham. But trust me, the tax bracket the kids are in is well under 5 percent. Well, maybe 10 percent. No more than 15.
