File 85 - Bummer, Bummer, Chicken Dinner


 "It should be bummer, bummer, chicken dinner."  I was sitting at my dining room desk and almost spit coffee all over my eating area office.  He has made it no secret that he loathes poultry, but this time he had gotten creative with his contempt.  I was so proud.  I mean, not about the insulting food part.  You should never talk shit about food.  That's just f**ked up.  Nevertheless, my baby was getting witty with words.

To be fair to my little amateur poet, this farm fowl is a regular in our diet.  We probably have it for supper a few times a week.  In my defence, I try and mix up the preparation.  It has been baked, slow-cooked, barbecued and smoked.  Breasts, thighs, drums and wings.  The only form of this protein that this child likes is the nugget.  And, can we be certain that that is even chicken?  I have known parents that have told their children that fish is chicken, to get them to eat it.  My oldest is like give me those sea creatures, give me anything else, just give me a clucking break.  

Yet, we know that tiny human tastes can be fickle AF.  Changing what they like to eat, like they change the games that they play in Roblox.  Surprisingly, both the littles love seafood.  So, when I found out that a well known local seafood food truck, that is usually parked downtown had moved close by, I knew that we had to go.  Fish and chips for the win!  A little pandemic parlay.  Or so I thought...  

It was the perfect day for my boys first real food truck experience. It was all blue skies, sunshine vibes, and the smell of deep fried.  We got there just before opening and secured our picnic table, a safe six feet from the others.  I got in line and perused the deep sea delights for offer.  I settled on the fish and chips (obvi!) and shrimp tacos.  And let me tell you, they did not disappoint.  The babies would not try the shrimp because salsa had touched it.  There was no redemption for the shrimp, in their eyes.  I knew that there was only thing that I could do, as their mother.  I modelled the appropriate behaviour and ate every last morsel of those salsa tainted shrimp tacos.  And every crispy, salty, deep fried chip that came with it.  It's about leading by example.  

I split the two pieces of fish and fries between the my two tiny companions.  I was so excited for my fish fanatic to try this right of passage.  I watched him try it and his face was unreadable.  Then he put the piece down and started feverishly eating his fries.  This could not be happening. This child has literally asked if we could eat fish everyday.  Every. Day.  And here is some of the most yummy offerings of this request and it is chicken gate all over again.  He said he only likes the fish that we make at home.  I give up.  Okay, I didn't totally give up.  Someone had to eat the rest of the fish.  

Winner, winner, this Mama ate two seafood dinners. 

Does Mommy need to lose her shit?

Not this week.

 

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