Friday, March 29th, 2013
2 years, 4 months.
You’re like me: You often process your thoughts out loud, sometimes not realizing that other people are listening and taking your curious trains of thought more seriously than you are.
Today as I drove you home from school and we listened to John Lennon sing “goo goo g’joob,” you interrupted “I Am The Walrus” with this deep philosophical creed:
“I not eat boogers? I eat food?”
Somehow I didn’t laugh, and instead, instantly responded in a tone that proved your questions to be legitimate.
“That’s right, son. You eat food, not boogers.”
I realize that your version of the food pyramid is almost exclusively built on mac and cheese, beans and rice, bananas, pureed veggies, and raisins. But even at the very top of that pyramid, there is no space available for boogers, with a caption reading, “Use sparingly.”
So maybe you saw some friends at school picking their nose, then eating their findings. Then you thought it was weird but maybe somehow you thought it might be acceptable, so you figured you should ask Daddy.
Or maybe, with all the talk of finding Easter eggs this weekend, and your confusion on whether or not chickens eat the eggs they lay, which leads to more confusion on whether cows drink the milk they so willingly and graciously share with the human population instead of their own young, I could see how you might think that you also could produce your own food source from your body.
Not the case.
Son, I’m glad we had our talk in the car today. I always want you to feel like you can approach me with important questions like this.
While there may be other families out there who disagree with our lifestyle choices, our family is firm in our beliefs:
We’re not a booger eating family.
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Thursday, August 25th, 2011
Dining out just isn’t the same when you have a nine month old who either needs a nap or is itching to crawl around on the floor the entire time.
Needless to say, I’m going through somewhat of an annoying time right now because I am a “good food” connoisseur. It’s been a long time since I’ve enjoyed a quiet, dinner at a classy Italian restaurant of my choice- like Carabba’s. Or even my favorite place in downtown Nashville: The Flying Saucer.
It’s dang near impossible to enjoy a nice meal out at a restaurant with my son, especially around lunch time as he is nearing his naptime. And it’s not his fault- he’s a baby. What business does he have in a restaurant where Chuck E. Cheese is nowhere to be found? The last time I was at a restaurant with him I became so frustrated that I decided I am over eating out with him until he is older.
Because either my wife or I has to let our food get cold as we walk him around the restaurant to keep him from getting upset. After all, he truly is obsessed with crawling around and seeing different scenery. I can’t fault him for that. But at this point, I’d rather just eat at home.
For me, it’s simply just not worth the frustration. I recognize my lack of patience and my blood pressure’s habit of spiking when I have good food in front of me, that I am paying restaurant pricing for, but I can only sneak quick bites of it before Jack either A) gets upset or B) I do.
Fortunately, I am blessed in that my wife shares my same love of good food and drink. She is a wonderful cook whose menus cater to our health freak-conscious, kosher, Mediterranean food pyramid-themed dietary needs. So much of the time, I tell her I’d rather have her food than what we could get at a nice restaurant anyway. And it’s true, without a doubt.
Not to mention, we have adopted the Millionaire Mindset. It’s hard to enjoy a $16 plate of pasta with chicken when you can make it yourself for less than four dollars and still have leftovers. Eventually the day will come when I can enjoy a nice meal out again. Until then, here’s to fine dining in our own kitchen.
The Mediterranean Food Pyrmid
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Growing Up, Health, Home Life