I'm Not Saying Your Cooking is Bland

It was a red letter day this week. Okay, it was more of a beigey-light brown-blah colored day this week, but we'll try to keep our opinions on that score to ourselves. LO started eating food food. I'd call it solid, but there ain't nothing solid about runny oatmeal. Which is exactly what he started with. Per our doctor's recommendation, oatmeal was probably going to be gentler on his stomach than rice cereal--the perennial favorite among the toothless set--and so I pulverized some oats and cooked up a batch of LO's very own.

As you can see, he's not sure how he feels about it.

On the one hand, it's a new texture to experience, if you can describe runny oatmeal as having a texture. On the other hand, I think on the scale of one to delicious, baby oatmeal (mixed with the requisite 1/4 cup of breast milk) tastes about as good as low-sodium clean cotton socks. Come to think of it, with LO's recent willingness to put anything he finds into his mouth, I suspect he'd prefer the clean cotton socks. (Although he'd probably salt them first. He is Grandpa J's grandson).

Luckily for LO, he does not live in the culinary wasteland that is the real world in the Matrix films. There is so much more to eat than just runny oatmeal! There is also runny mashed sweet potatoes! Both the bouquet and the palate undertones of the sweet potatoes appealed to LO, and then he forgot his sensibilities of food connoisseur-ship and just dug in:

Next on the menu: pureed peas! I can't imagine anyone getting excited about that, but hey, it's a new color. LO has lately been reaching for anything brightly colored, particularly if J or I is in the midst of eating it: "Want strawberry! Want scrambled eggs! Want beer! What the hell is this crap you keep feeding me?"

(And if you're wondering, yes, having scrambled eggs, strawberries and beer for breakfast does prepare us well for the day ahead.)