I shared an interesting conversation tonight at dinner with my youngest, Ben, who was insisting that he didn’t like his chicken. But I am pretty sure that this is the same kid who at dinner last week ate approximately 10,000 chicken nuggets right in front of me (other than the three he gave to his dog).
The problem is apparently the sauce. It was not hot sauce or anything like that on them (my preference) but it was also NOT KETCHUP (his preference). And it got me thinking that everything for anyone under five just ought to be made with ketchup, and that would end all conversations about getting them to eat, and not frustrate parents all over the world.
It still fascinated me. This kid eats broccoli, yet worries about a little sweet sauce. How bizarre is that? His mom actually willingly married me, so that probably indicates a little about where some of this strange DNA comes from, for he is prone like she is to poor judgement. But next time I will not be so thoughtful. We will have the hot sauce.
But who knows? He may just gobble that up. He is a strange bird, and clearly he is my son.
Goodnight my friends and God Bless!
Tommy+