Next it’s oysters
Sassy has decided that she’s vegetarian. She isn’t doing this because she has compassion for animals, or a political view she wants to express, nor even a conscientious health decision. She has declared she is a vegetarian because she thinks it will get her out of eating food she doesn’t like. Or thinks she doesn’t like. Or has a suspicion that it smells funny.
Of course, this encompasses all meat except chicken nuggets, McDonald’s hamburgers and fried chicken drumsticks. It also covers several vegetables so she really doesn’t have a firm grasp on the concept. She was especially distraught when, for example, I made an entirely vegetarian dinner (I know! I cooked! Alert the media) consisting of eggplant parmesan. I assured her this was a meal consistent with a vegetarian diet and, because I’d outwitted her, she had no choice but to eat it.
This has become a hobby of her father and I – finding stuff and tricking her into eating it. I told you several months ago that we’d tricked her into eating tuna. She still doesn’t know what it was, but she had two helpings. I did it again tonight. I made tuna cassarole (something I despise but I’m willing to make and eat it if it tortures my kid) for dinner tonight.
She initially acted suspicious. “What is this?”
“It’s fish and noodles and sauce,” I tell her truthfully.
She sniffs it again as if her nose was akin to Roscoe’s and she will be able to discern the difference. “What kind of fish?”
“White fish.” I give her some green beans.
“What kind of white fish? Is this tuna?” She looks at me all squinty eyed.
I meet her gaze head on and, without blinking, I tell her, “It’s white fish.”
We got her to eat calamari twice in the last month, too.
You can’t tell, but I’m twirling my evil mustache even as you read this.
If she ever starts reading your blog, you’re in trouble!