Parmesan encrusted chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, and a melody of mixed veggies. This was our dinner the other night. Mind you, I cooked the whole thing myself. I can be very Betty Crocker when I want and, according to my husband, I’m not half bad. The chicken was taking a little longer to cook than expected, so we fed my daughter first because she was getting antsy. And by antsy, I mean she started opening all my kitchen cabinets and helping herself to bake ware, serving platters, and strainers. Lately she’s taken to pulling out all the kitchen hand towels and blowing her nose on each one before casually chucking it on the floor with a small grin on her face.
Once my husband and I sat down to eat the munchkin had finished so we pulled out some toys, books, and Jerry the jester we keep stored away in the closet under the stairs. Shhh….don’t tell ICE. None of this was amusing to her and her only desire was to sit on my lap while I ate. I relinquished and gave in. No problem. I can cut chicken one handed; I’ll use the laser beams that come out of my eyes. Cause I’m an f’in superhero. I also crap gold bricks.
Obviously my plate of food looked mighty enticing to her grubby little fingers. So enticing that he digits roamed through my veggies and pranced along my chicken. She’s a big fan of corn, so she stared picking that out and was eating that as she sat with me. Fine, I CAN COMPROMISE, you eat the corn, I’ll eat the rest of the food. Just avoid the laser beams. Except that one time, at band camp, when she picked up a carrot and her daddy said “oh, Cardin, just eat the carrot” while I had a mouthful of chicken and before I could scream “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” she had gagged and was puking on me.
Brett denies that this is his fault. Let’s review:
1) Child had just eaten.
2) Child has extremely sensitive gag reflex
3) Child was sitting on me with no bib
4) Brett instructed child to eat a large sized carrot
I’ll let you decide Internet.