The Taste of Shoe Leather

Have you ever noticed that the moment a mom says, "My child always..." or "My child never..." the kid immediately proves her wrong? That's how I feel tonight. Last night I complained that my son, especially, is not fond of scrounging for dinner. So...tonight we scrounged, and he was happy to do so. Just for the record, it was the husband's idea to just eat leftovers - and, no, I didn't have a heart attack.

The normal culprits lead up to leftovers tonight: home late, things to do, didn't realize the time, etc. However, the difference was that my son entertained me with his guitar for a couple of hours while I worked on a project for Saturday's retirement party. Jeff spent the time getting some computer work done and none of us even missed watching television. This is a good thing since it means that the end-of-the-year stress is starting to lighten. When we are in full work/stress mode, we argue over who has to fix dinner or whether we're going to eat out. When we begin to relax, dinner isn't as important and everyone fends for himself - like tonight.

Still, I have to wonder how my son knew I had made disparaging remarks about his inability to scrounge. He doesn't read this blog, and Jeff usually runs several days behind, so he didn't mention it. It must be that sixth sense kids have when they do something just to embarrass their parents. It is akin to the sixth sense moms and dads have when their kids are doing something they shouldn't and then lie about it. (Jeff has an uncanny ability to know when our son is lying - even over inconsequential things.)

Once, when my son was quite young and attending a birthday party cookout, I bragged to another mom that he liked raw veggies. (He often ate them for a snack.) Of course, as soon as he saw the baby carrots and bell pepper strips on his plate, he loudly exclaimed, "I don't want to eat those! Yuck!" The other mom merely smirked in my direction as I turned several shades of pink. Later, at home, over dinner he told me none of his friends ate vegetables, and he didn't want to be "weird." From that day on I made it a point to never tell strangers what he would or would not eat. (He's even done this to me at his grandmother's. There have been times I assured my mom that he would eat something yummy at which he prompty turned up his nose the moment he saw it.)

I'm sure I did this to my mother on numerous occasions. When I was a kid I wouldn't eat any food that touched another, so I was careful to keep everything separate on my plate. Then, I ate one food at a time and turned the plate to the next thing when I was finished. The only food I really remember despising as a kid was tuna. When mom made tuna casserole - and the smell permeated the house - I knew I was going to be hungry. Don't get me wrong - she never starved me. I just refused to eat it and (being a good mom) she refused to give in to my stubbornness. (One time my brother spent hours sitting at the table with a meal in front of him that he refused to eat. I think being stubborn runs in my family!)

Ultimately, tonight I am enjoying the taste of shoe leather along with the nachos I nuked for dinner. Luckily, the faux pas was small enough to make the foot in my mouth more of an appetizer than a main course.