She points to a basket of small, round bottles of carbonated sugar that, ironically enough, has “Chubby” printed across the front of it. In this age of rampant childhood obesity, this store is actually promoting the donation of this worthless product to kids, whose parents probably already pack them artificial drinks in their lunch boxes.
On one hand, perhaps, the store’s heart is in the right place. On the other, maybe they’re just trying to write off some crappy products that won’t sell or are close to expiring. This same store donated a truckload, a truckload, mind you, of Little Debbie’s to my children’s elementary school.
I know because my friend works in the front office, and despite her tiny frame, managed to spend the afternoon eating one or two of every kind – Swiss rolls, oatmeal pies, Star Crunch, Cosmic Brownies, you get the idea. Imagine the children’s reaction. (To be perfectly fair, the school wisely did not distribute them to the kids).
But, back to Chubby, it seems this is a carbonated soft drink marketed specifically for kids under 12 with flavors such as bubble gum and cotton candy. Need I say more?
“No!” I told the clerk, shocked at her request.
“Not even one for .30?”
“Absolutely not!” I said.
I would be happy to donate a dollar for school supplies, clothes, fruit, jump ropes, but none of my money is going toward Chubby drinks, I thought, perhaps, out loud.
The clerk looked at me as if I were the most heartless person on the planet.
Later that day, I gave my teenager some money to pick up a few things I had (as usual) forgotten from the store. I was just venting to my husband about the clerk’s outrageous request, not to mention her pushiness, when my daughter came back with two bags of groceries and a receipt.
I thanked her profusely, and as she walked away, she said, “Oh, and I donated $1 for some drinks to kids in day care.”
Guess I’m doing my part for childhood obesity after all. I hope the store is proud.