Writing in the Corner

Little Boy has a “delicate palate.” A turn of phrase stolen from my brother-in-law, which I found very funny at the time. As time has gone on, it has been less amusing.

We made a decision about a year and a half ago (maybe longer) to stop making a fuss over what Little Boy would eat. His range of acceptable foods was very small. Our decision was based on the premise that we didn’t want to make mealtime a battleground. We wanted it to be a fairly relaxed and pleasant time together. We always offered him some of what we were eating, but would prepare a simple dish of something he would eat (like macaroni and cheese, or a PB&J sandwich.)

Tonight’s dinner was baked tilapia and a pasta and broccoli side dish. I almost fell off my chair - Little Boy ate almost AN ENTIRE PIECE OF BAKED TILAPIA. FISH. HE ATE FISH!

DH and I did some silent eyebrow raising. I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, and I don’t think DH did, either. But after a few minutes I couldn’t stand it any longer. I excused myself and went back to the bedroom, where I called my parents. Well aware of Little Boy’s food preferences, my father replied “Spaghetti-O’s” when I said, “Guess what Little Boy is having for dinner.” It was so fun to tell someone who has seen the situation “no, he’s eating FISH. BAKED fish.”