Friday, June 17, 2011

The Mini Moocher


"I want that!"
It is a truth universally acknowledged that food on Mom or Dad's plate will taste infinitely better than the food specifically prepared for baby.

On the one hand, LO has some logic on his side in his continued insistence on eating a little of whatever I'm having. I'm enough of a hypocrite that I will happily nosh on full-fat, deep fried ketchup conveyors that I would never in a million years let him eat. LO sees that his high chair tray is covered in an array of healthy and nourishing single ingredient foods, takes a gander at the fish and chips I'm enjoying, and lunges across the boring good-for-him stuff in a desperate attempt to improve the flavor of his food.

Sometimes, however, I'm eating pretty much the same stuff he is. On those occasions, I believe my little greedy Gus has noticed that my portion sizes are a great deal larger than his. (This is the child who will continue stuffing pieces of watermelon into his mouth until it reaches a critical mass and he must release some of the coveted melon back onto his [why is it always white?)] onesie. At which point he'll notice the partially gummed watermelon on his onesie and with profound concentration, declare that he wants that and use his pincer clasp to grab then drop it again, all while he is still gumming the original mouthful that he simply cannot fit down his gullet.)

I don't really mind the child grabbing off my plate, which I believe shows just how far maternal love will go. (I have been known to throw myself bodily on a pint of Ben & Jerry's to keep others from getting at it.) Last week, while out to lunch, LO grabbed some grape tomatoes out of my salad and eviscerated them, right there in the restaurant. I saved the rest of the tomatoes for him, never once wincing over the loss of my favorite part of a salad. If my child wants to commit wanton acts of vegetative ravaging on my salad bowl, he's welcome to it.

The neat thing about all this is that LO is starting to communicate very clearly with us. No, he is not speaking yet, but he nonetheless makes his wishes clear. He will point at whatever delicacy I'm flagrantly enjoying in front of him, and make loud yelps at me until I share. His meaning couldn't be any more clear:

"I want that!"

Wouldn't life be easier if we were all that straightforward?

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