Just a funny postscript to my comments about multivitamins:
My mother tried, with marginal success at best, a number of multi-level marketing businesses while I was growing up. She was an early Shaklee distributor, for many years. Shaklee was on the forefront of the fledgling vitamin supplement industry, circa 1980. I remember her demos where a Shaklee pill sat in water and disintegrated, compared to a competitor’s pill that just sat there, undissolved. The more products Shaklee released, the more convinced my mother became that we needed this one, and that one, and oh, about five of these…
By my senior year of high school, I was taking about 1/3 cup of supplements. Bright green Vita Lea multis (horse pills!), Vita C, a liquid-cap Vita E, yellow Vita B, a red iron pill, lots of alfalfa tabs, and sooooo many more. My brothers and I developed great skill in swallowing enormous quantities in one gulp. Not as macho as they were, I didn’t participate in their how-many-can-you-swallow contests.
I used every last second on hair and makeup before school, until my friend Kelly picked me up in her electric-blue Camaro. So, I often ran out of time–and sometimes when Mom wasn’t looking, I stuffed that large handful of pills in my jeans pocket.
Keep in mind this was the 1980’s. We wore TIGHT jeans.
So one day I get to school and sit down in AP English. The jeans being really snug, as I mentioned, that big bulging handful of vitamins in my pocket was bothering me. So I dug them out of my pocket and put them in my desk. I fully intended to get them out at the end of class and…..um….do whatever it is I usually did with them. (I’m being purposefully vague. I don’t think my mom reads my blog, but you never know!)
Anyway, of course I forgot. Went to my next class and never thought about the vitamin stash again.
Until 6th period. When a police officer walked into my science class and said, “Do you have a Robyn Openshaw in here?” I was an A student, oldest child, always obedient, never in trouble, so I was horrified.
I was then escorted by the police officer to the principal’s office, where I was confronted with the evidence: was it drug use, or intent to sell? Administrators wanted to know. Now, what would you be thinking, if that had been you?
This was my only utterly panic-stricken thought, which I blurted out before bursting into tears:
“Please, please—I’m begging you—do NOT tell my mom I didn’t take my vitamins today!!!”