Through my postings, I think I've made it clear that Elliott is a very picky eater. And I don't mean picky about what he eats. I mean picky about which days he chooses to eat at all.
Now I'll take the opportunity, if I haven't already done so, to make it clear that Ian is also quite picky about his eating. As in if you offer him a dinner menu of hot dogs, yogurt, turkey bacon, whitehouse rolls, chocolate ice cream, and seconds on the turkey bacon for dinner, he'll pick them all.
The other night Katie had to work late so I was in charge of cooking dinner for me and the boys. Actually, I worded that wrong, Katie had to work late so I was in charge of cooking dinner for ONLY me and the boys. I hadn't thought of the evening as sort of a mini-vacation until just now. And for the sake of a healthy marriage, I'll state that I'm the cook in our house out of choice and not out of necessity. I find it relaxing.
Anyways, Elliott took part in his normal light fare. Ian took part in everything I put in front of him until I thought he would bust like a helium balloon head-butting a steak knife. He was finally full, which gave me an opportunity to eat my own dinner. I made up a batch of my favorite "quick fix" dinner, Kraft macaroni and cheese. I chopped up a little ham to put in it to add a bit of spice. I settled myself on the green chair in the living room, flipped on the evening news, and prepared to inhale my dinner before the inevitable interruption. Too late.
Before I could get the first bite in my mouth, Ian emerged from the kitchen carrying a fork. He stood before me looking longingly at my plate.
"Whats eatin dad"
"Macaroni and cheese," I answered, very afraid for my meal at this point.
"Me have some." No, I did not forget the question mark.
Before I could respond to his non-question his fork was dropping down on my plate like a Kingfisher diving out of the sky with every intention of disturbing the day of an unsuspecting fish. I tried to block his move. I was too late. He drew away a fork full of pasta and cheese and ham. He had it piled so high that the heap began to spill over on the chair and down to the floor. And the news got worse. The part of the stolen dinner that found his mouth, he liked. I had sadly misjudged the capacity of his food tank.
Given Ian's appetite, we have placed a premium on teaching good table manners in our house, as you will clearly see in the video below:
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