David Spates "Therefore I Am" Published March 15, 2005

Maybe kids should wear helmets at breakfast

You wouldn't feed raw pork to a child, would you? Of course not. That would be insane. You wouldn't give a kid raw pork anymore than you'd give him raw eggs. When it comes to my kids, I don't even trust over-easy eggs. Sure they're tasty, especially with a nice piece of toast or a biscuit, but why would I take a chance like that with my kids? If I want to sop up some warm liquid yolk and gamble with my own health, that's one thing, but taking a chance with my kids? No way. Either way you spell it -- trichinosis or salmonella -- it all adds up to a visit to the ER.

That being said, why do I still allow my kids to "lick the spoon" after we mix cake batter? My children, particularly my daughter, love to make cakes, brownies, cookies, whatever. My wife and I let them help us, and it's a fun thing to do on a rainy day.

But let's take a look at the back of a Duncan Hines box. In addition to the cake mix itself, we add water, veggie oil and raw eggs. RAW EGGS. These egg yolks aren't even warmed to room temperature like in an over-easy Grand Slam breakfast platter -- these are straight from the chicken to the grocery store to our fridge to our cake mix. We stir it all together (about 50 strokes according to those know-it-alls at Duncan Hines), and then we pour the batter into our cake pan. That leaves a big mixing bowl covered in sweet, gooey remnant batter.

I don't care if you're a child of the 2000s, 1900s, 1800s or 1700s, you are born with the phrase "lick the spoon" in your brain. A kid who doesn't want to "lick the spoon" may have serious mental deficiencies. It's a time-honored tradition. You've done it, I've done it, my kids have done it. It's risky, but it sure is yummy.

What it comes down to is this: Sometimes we parents do things that aren't necessarily right, but we do them anyway because that's how we grew up. It's not as though raw eggs' dangerous germs magically disappear when you add water, oil and cake mix. I know uncooked eggs can be dangerous, and yet I give my kids a spoon to lick. Someone call CPS. I should be locked up.

Maybe a few licks of raw cake batter aren't going to raise an eyebrow at Child Protective Services, but where does it end? As a parent, where do I draw my line?

Here's the sort of thing I'm talking about. I used to ride my bicycle everywhere when I was a kid. I'd traverse impressive distances to 7-11, the arcade, pizza place, friends' houses -- heck, even enemies' houses. No journey was too perilous, no mission too daring.

Most of the time I and my fellow two-wheeling buddies would stick to back roads, but we had no qualms about braving busy streets. Busy streets just meant we might need to keep our hands on the handlebars and postpone wheelies for a few minutes. Over hill, over dale we'd always return home with our spoils of exploration -- a new Donkey Kong high score, leftover stromboli, half a Krispy Kreme cruller.

Never once, over many years and probably a few hundred miles, did I ever wear a bicycle helmet. It just wasn't done in the late 1970s and early '80s. Oh maybe a few kids wore helmets, but only because they were required to by their "weird" parents. I was gleefully unfettered, the wind whipping through my hair, the sun baking my unhelmeted forehead.

Were Mom and Dad bad parents because they let their son ride his bicycle without a helmet all over West Knoxville? Of course not. The times were different. Bicycle helmets weren't an issue.

Fast-forward 25 years ...

Any kid who even looks at a bicycle is required by law to wear a helmet. Even kids whose bikes never leave their driveways wear helmets. One part of my brian -- the immature cavalier part that hasn't matured much since age 11 -- sees these kids and thinks, "Buncha pansies. Their parents must be weird." The other part -- the mature, parental part that makes informed decisions -- sees these kids and thinks, "That's sensible. Bike helmets save thousands of lives a year. You can bet Anna and Phil will wear them when they ride in the street."

It makes me think of those handful of older people who pooh-pooh the notion of wearing seatbelts because, back in their heyday, seatbelts weren't thought about very much. Some old cars didn't even have them. The rest of us, we who wear our seatbelts religiously, can't believe anyone would be so irresponsible not to wear one.

I seatbelt my kids in the car, no questions asked. So why would I even consider not requiring them to wear bicycle helmets? My Dad Brain and my 11-Year-Old Brain are in conflict, but I suspect the Dad Brain will win out when the time comes to lay down the law.

But if my kids develop a taste for eggs easy-over, we're all in big trouble. Maybe I'll make them wear helmets at the breakfast table.

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David Spates is a Knoxville resident and Crossville Chronicle contributor whose column is published each Tuesday. He can be reached at davespates@chartertn.net.