So here's the deal. Finny isn't exactly the best eater in the world. She is downright picky. Gee, I wonder where she gets that from...ERIC? And just when I think I have her figured out and there is some surefire food that she will actually eat, she keeps it fresh by changing her repertoire. Yesterday she liked grapes. Today they make her gag. For real...like throwing up in her mouth. Tomorrow? Probably back on the grape train.
Three nights ago when I was making dinner, my wee gourmet wandered into the kitchen and asked what was on the menu (the word menu implies choice, which of course, there is not). I informed her, whereupon she threw a mini tantrum that we weren't having shrimp and mushrooms. Huh? I have no idea where that came from, but she was devastated. I told her that the next day the Shrimp Fairy may come for dinner. Then I promptly forgot.
The next night...same deal. We were having hamburgers and little girl was crushed that the shrimp fairy bailed on her. I promised anew. And immediately forgot...again.
Last night, we had steak. The tears welled up and suddenly we had A THING. Blubbering and sobbing laced with a chant of "Shrimp...mushrooms...shrimp". I felt pretty bad.
So tonight? When Finny came home from swimming with Molly and Eric, I informed her that her time had come. I started dinner and she commenced a five minute check-up schedule..."dinner ready?"..."shrimp done?"..."all cooked Mumma?". The kid was psyched....right...up...until........she fell asleep in the middle of the living room floor. Now she is upstairs tucked in her bed. Molly and I enjoyed our shrimp and mushrooms. I'll pack some up in Tupperware and little Fin can have a Surf and Turf breakfast.
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