I used to eye-roll the adult gummy vitamin options. I mean, honestly. Do you want a baby aspirin while you’re at it? Maybe a diaper because the toilet has a loud scary flush? Come on, being a grownup means you occasionally have to do unpleasant things like sign advance health care directives, pollute what would otherwise be a perfectly edible smoothie with a handful of kale, and choke down pills the size of an OB tampon.
Then I tried one of the kids’ vitamins and I was like, heyyyyy, these are pretty good. I probably wouldn’t shake the entire bottle into my mouth and slobber-gnaw my way through it like I would with a bag of Haribo Gold-Bears, but they were sugary and tart and I could imagine this improved user experience affecting my ability to actually commit to a daily vitamin regimen. I pictured my lush and shining hair, enriched by organic compounds. My skin: glowing, dewy. My energy levels: through the roof! Never mind the near-zero evidence regarding nutritional benefit, the newly supplemented me was going to be amazing.
Well, I’m here to tell you that adult gummy vitamins — at least the brand I bought — aren’t anything like the children’s variety. The chewiness factor is completely different, mealy and sort of crumbly as compared to that springy gelatin texture. They’re matte, roundish-squarish, a tragic assortment of brownish-reds and dull yellows that look exactly like cat treats. Then there’s the taste … my god, the taste. You may as well just suck on a “max potency” multi-mineral pill, the giant uncoated flecked kind that knocks you over the instant you unscrew the lid.
Also, the serving size is THREE. One of these unholy globs is bad enough, the second verifies what you learned with the first, and the third forces you to review every questionable life-path you ever took that led you to this specific moment in time.
The sensible thing to do would be to jettison my bottle of Bad Decision Nuggets into the nearest landfill, but reluctant to waste the purchase, I doggedly chew them every morning. As my throat convulses and my eyes water, I reassure myself that anything this awful must be good for me. I’m sure I’ll feel the superhuman effects any day now.