July 3rd, 2012
Here’s the scenario:
We’re away for the week, at a place where I love to cook, especially when we have visitors, as we did this weekend. I’ve also had a terrible summer cold. I cooked through it all weekend but last night, after our visitors left, I phoned it in. We ordered pizza.
Here’s the thing about pizza:
The hungry baby doesn’t like it. I know, I know. It’s insane. What
child person doesn’t like pizza? We’re from Brooklyn, for goodness sake! It’s crazy nuts, but it’s true. And, P.S., the other one doesn’t like mac and cheese. It’s all backwards and shizz at my house.
So, we’ve got this pizza—two of them actually, because I had the audacity to order a smaller plain pie for Mr. picky pants—and he won’t eat it. He’d eaten the tomatoes, carrots and red peppers that I’d put on his plate. He’d even tried salad greens. But he refused the pizza. He wouldn’t take a single bite. And then it happened.
I offered him leftover rice, beans, and zucchini.
The hungry baby happily agreed to leftovers, so I did something I never do: I got up from the table, made another plate of food, warmed it up, and served him a second dinner.
I didn’t think anything of it. Maybe because we’re in the country? Maybe because the second dinner was more nutritious? Usually, second dinners are served to appease picky eaters refusing a nutritious, well-rounded first offer. But the hungry papa done called me out.
“You just offered him a second meal, you know?”
“You just got up from the table to make him something else, something he’d eat because he’s not agreeing to eat what the rest of us are eating. Don’t we not do that?”
The hungry papa is very charming. He’s also got a, how shall I put this, sharp wit. He was totally screwing with me. It totally worked.
“Uh. I dunno. I mean, the kid doesn’t like pizza. He’s eating zucchini now—is that so bad?”
“He ate the veggies you gave him. Isn’t that enough? Can’t he go to bed hungry if he doesn’t like what we serve him.”
Apparently, I was being served a bowl of my own shit. Enjoy dinner, mama!
But he’s right. I don’t serve second dinner, even to give something more nutritious. I also don’t feel bad that I did it this once. No big deal. But it raises some questions. In particular:
Am I a hypocrite?
Does it matter that the second meal I offered was healthier?
What do you think?