 |
| Every Home Ec teacher in America would be proud! |
do was ladle the roast and such out of the crock pot, open a can of green beans and voila! I'm Mom-of-the-Year! (In our house, fixing a meal of this magnitude constitutes a Nobel Prize in homemaking!)
The Dad and The Daughters were out swimming as I put the finishing touches (salt and pepper) on the meal. I carefully and beautifully prepared each plate. On each plate I put a few of the cooked baby carrots. The Daughters will eat carrots raw and soaked in ranch dressing, but they won't touch the slimy, soft cooked ones. I was convinced, however, in my June Cleaver fantasy, that this was the night all that would change. This was the night that we'd eat a complete meal, and everyone would be happy!
I hollered out for the family to dry off and come to the 1950s and enjoy their meal.
Before I even sat my aproned booty into my chair, The Daughters were already launching their attack on the carrots.
"No way, Momma! Cooked carrots are yuck!" Daughter 1 whined
"Why would you put this slime on my plate, Momma??" Daughter 2 griped.
The Dad? He sat down and dug in like a smart man.
When the groaning and moaning stopped, I told them they didn't have to eat ALL of the carrots, but they did have to eat one bite. And if they didn't? They could just sit there. Even all night if they had to.
Daughter 1, who really wanted to watch the new Wizards of Waverly Place that very night - in 30 minutes in fact! - quickly shoved a carrot in her mouth and gulped a big glass of water, ingesting the carrot as if it were a vitamin in one swift swallow. Not what I had planned, but she had complied and I wasn't going to argue. She pronounced that it was too soft, and she didn't like cooked carrots still.
Daughter 2? She was a tougher nut to crack. Initially, she whined that she was too "yittle" to swallow a carrot whole, using her best 2-year-old voice. I countered that she didn't have to swallow it whole and I cut a baby carrot in half. Also, she is 7 and needed to speak as a 7 year old.
She complained that her sister said it was soft and she only liked ice cream soft. I countered that maybe the carrot was soft to her sister, but it wouldn't be to her and she'd never know if she didn't try.
She griped that it had a little bit of the gravy on it and she can't stand gravy. I countered that she ate gravy all the time, and then I leaned over and gently wiped the carrots clean.
This back and forth went on throughout dinner. The Dad finished his meal. Daughter 1 finished her meal and put her plate in the sink. Daughter 2, sat back in her chair with her fork clutched tightly in her little fist and said, "I will not be eating that carrot."
I said, "Then you will not be getting up from the table."
She cried. She kicked. She put her head on the table. She curled up in the fetal position on her chair. She pounded her fists. Then, she heaved a great big sigh.
"Momma? If I eat this carrot will you answer a question?"
Seemed reasonable, but this kid is cunning. I answered her question with a question, "What kind of question?"
"I want to know what a certain word is."
"What's the word?"
"First," she said slowly, looking straight into my eyes, "Let's get this straight: I eat the carrot and you answer the question, right?"
Fine. Whatever the question was, I could find a suitable and appropriate answer and I really wanted to win The Battle of the Soft Carrot. Not just for me, but for mommas everywhere! (But mainly for me.)
Daughter 2, still not quite certain I would answer her question, speared the soft carrot plopped in into her mouth, made an awful face and then swallowed. She opened her mouth wide to demonstrate that she had, indeed, swallowed the carrot. She speared the second bite of carrot, faked a gag and gulped her glass of water.
She then turned in her seat, narrowed her eyes and asked her most pressing question. "Momma?" she said in with very business-only tone to her voice, "What is the 'S' cuss word?"
I turned in my seat, narrowed my eyes and answered her honestly, "The 'S' cuss word is $#!+."
With that she giggled, took her plate to the sink and said, "Hey, Daughter 1! Momma just said, '$#!+"!!
The things we do for nutrition... June Cleaver would be appalled!
