"The granola is 10, the blueberries are about 5.  That was the new brand of soy yogurt.  How many carbs were in the container?"

As I turned around from giving the smoothie one last whirl, I found my daughter elbow deep in the kitchen trash.  Holding the yogurt cup delicately with 2 fingers, she said, "27" before dropping it back in and turning to wash her hands.

It wasn't the first time this scene has played out here.  Generally, though, I'm the dedicated trash picker. What particularly struck me about yesterday's episode was my child's nonchalance about diving in herself.

Add it to the long list of peculiarly unpleasant things we do for diabetes' sake.

We pick the trash.

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