Destroy was busy narrating the scenic drive and telling us about his day as we completed the short drive home from school. Weeknights are always a bit frenzied round these parts – get kids, get home, get dinner – as we race the clock to beat a hungry muppet meltdown.
“Do you want spaghetti for dinner?” I interrupted the little narrator?
“No,” he replied matter-of-factly. “No getty.”
“No spaghetti?! But it’s yummy yummy!” I encouraged. Because reasoning with a cranky toddler always ends well.
“No. No getty, “he explained. “Pffttt.”
“I’m sorry?” I asked my rearview mirror. “What do you want for dinner then?”
“Special. I want special.”
Well okay then, kid. Let me tell you about tonight’s specials…
Let’s take a brief moment here to journey back into the annals of my family’s culinary gene pool. The women on my side of the family aren’t fantastic. (I have the impressive habit of blowing shit up in the kitchen. Which, while an impressive visual fireworks display, makes for less than tasty meals.)
Grandma Winnie (G.G.) was no master chef; her younger brother Uncle John, however, delights in the intricate flavors and textures he can create from exotic ingredients. His kids, therefore, were used to more in-depth dishes.
One afternoon, many decades ago, a young Nancy was hanging out with her cousins. It was lunchtime.
Grandma Winnie called Nancy over to the Formica kitchen from the kitchen, playing the role of a proper housewife.
G.G.: I’m making turkey sandwiches.
Nancy: No thank you, Aunt Winnie.
G.G.: Would you like peanut butter and jelly?
(Seriously? Who doesn’t want PB&J. I’m craving one right now.)
G.G.: Ok…how about a grilled cheese?
Nancy: Ewww. <wrinkles nose> You only have fake cheese.
(Are you noticing a sandwich theme here?)
G.G.: Well what DO you want for lunch?!
Nancy: <thoughtful pause> Beef wellington.
A turkey sandwich it was!
I can’t help but wonder if such traits are genetic. Nancy was a preemie too. And also, Destroy got spaghetti for dinner.
5 Responses to Well What DO You Want for Dinner?
Cute – he got the spaghetti for dinner. BUT, did he eat it????
I play take a bite and get a crouton.
Yeah… did he eat it?? My kids never know what the hell they want. They ask for crap they don’t eat, and gobble up the crap they didn’t ask for. Weird-ass kids. lol
Such a funny post! I don’t remember being a picky eater as a child, but then I started cooking dinner at the age of ten for my mom who was a single parent and worked full time. (Hint. If you want your children to eat their dinner with gusto, let them make it!) As for toddlers? Good luck with that!
Was this me???? I have no recollection of this and I usually remember all things culinary.
Well, I made up for my being so difficult to cook for and finicky nature. I often made brunches, dinners and treats for Winnie and even high tea several times. Her favorites were the pecan tarts and chocolate lava cakes. Often times, I would show up at her place with a basket containing a complete feast, wine included and we would have a picnic on the porch.
And yes, it eas a PicnicTime Basket (thank you very much Janet).