He avoids food the way Tom Sizemore avoids his parole officer, but who really wants to hear yet another parent kvetch the “o woe is me” routine while waxing dietetic about the caloric trials, travails and tribulations of duping, cajoling, bribing, force feeding, and stuffing daily rations into a picky eating five year old?
We all have kids who store bites of food in their cheeks like a manic squirrel preparing for winter and who remember they have food in their mouth only when they start talking 15 minutes later and the pulpy mash that might have been a chicken nugget drips down the front of their shirt.
We all have kids with fussy palates who can eat a pound of cooked bacon, but take an hour to eat half a bagel; who eat pickles like they’re in their second trimester, who like Raman Noodles more than a off-campus college sophomore, and who would rather eat a bowl of frozen peas than a bowl of cereal, right?
A friend recently sent me a picture from his daughter’s birthday that Jack attended a couple weeks ago and Jack had an expression on his face that essentially epitomized his selective approach to eating; An approach that includes an intense aversion to chocolate birthday cakes, but not to the frosting. He’s the dark-haired little boy in the back row, the one in the 10th percentile for weight, the one who has the muscle definition of Calista Flockhart, the one with the facial expression that says:
“Man, I wish that was a bowl of frozen peas.”
What’s that you got there? Chocolate Cake? Can I get a piece that’s all frosting?