Photo by John Belmont, Merriam, KS

The sugar Industry has been my nemesis. It should be everyone’s enemy. They make sweet addictive products with no discernible benefit for consumers. Right? Or at lease so I thought until this week.

Everything has changed. Now and hence forth, I believe sugar/sweeteners offer significant medicinal, psychiatric and marital benefits that go unappreciated. This change of heart came with two weird encounters that took place in rapid succession:

Encounter One at 12:00 Noon, Wednesday:

My older sister is remarkably fit and alert for a 93 year old, but she is now in a nursing home. She still can do some gardening if weather permits, she joins her family during holidays and is as well cared for as her circumstances allow. Most days are uneventful and pleasant.

Yesterday was our day to go out for lunch. It’s usually a fun occasion, sort of a nostalgic trip back to the long gone days of our youth. However, as I opened her door this time, I was frightened to see a thoroughly distraught woman.

“I feel trapped and I’m unable to tolerate another hour of this!” she complained.

When it came to articulating what it was that made her feel so stressed, she was unable to explain very well, but for her it was a highly emotional, dramatic moment. For me it’s the kind of encounter that I have difficulty understanding or coping with.

“Let’s sit down on the bed” I suggested “and talk it out.”

After a few minutes of meandering discussion we saw were getting nowhere and agreed to thrash out the matter over lunch at a restaurant.

By the time the waitress brought the main course, Sis was feeling better and it was difficult to judge what remained of the “distressing something”. Then suddenly everything changed! What quickly transformed her attitude (and stunned me) was the explosion of whip cream atop a pool of chocolate sauce all dripping down a monster mountain of vanilla. The colossal sundae arrived and instantly my sister became Princess Charming, humorous and entertaining as she can often be. The depression-to-joy change was breath taking. I don’t practice medicine but I tell you no psychotic drug cocktail of any strength could have brought about a happier result.

Let’s be frank guys: When a woman loses it, has a meltdown, or blows up, we feel helpless and are left wondering, ” OMG! Now what do I do?” Yes yes I know. They tell you to be patient, listen respectfully, bite your tongue and be a saint. Sad to say guys are not always saints or even patient. Guys also have feelings, and usually those feelings urge us to find the remedy quickly. Very quickly.

Encounter Two at 3:00 pm Wednesday afternoon:

The lesson of lunch with Sis might have been lost on me were it not for another distraught younger woman on the same day. Twice in one day makes for a learning even for the slowest of guys. Wednesday afternoons I walk my grandkids home from school. You who pick up kids after school know they can be grumpy, hungry or go incommunicado for a long time. They are never violent or hostile with this Grandpa, and in return I refrain from asking, “…..So, what happened in school today.” They are good kids, but with Grandpa, they are closed mouth. Just like your regulation KGB agent. No jovial, bon amie humor can pull them into a discussion or even spark a full sentence.

So, on we trudged down the frigid sidewalk like strangers, unpleasant and silent until we were well out of site of the school building. Then miracle #2 of the day occurred just like with my sister. All it took this time was placing five small m&m candies in the palm of my ten year old granddaughter.

“Why thank you Jiji. I appreciate that.” she said with her amiable smile. The disappointments and hurt feelings of the school yard were forgotten and we became food friends for the rest of the afternoon. Wow! The evil witch’s spell had been shattered by a quarter ounce of colorful candy.

I wish to be thought of as suave, debonair and charming by women young and old. In addition I would like to believe I have skills to help them back to good humor when they are upset. Now it seems chocolate sundaes and m&ms beat suave/debonair every time.

With that realization, I submit my resignation from the anti sugar bowl caravan.