Lunch Time? Not On My Watch!

One of the most iconic scenes in the movie A Christmas Story features a Ralphie’s little brother refusing to eat his Meatloaf. Ralphie mentions that in every family there is a child that simply refuses to eat. Recently that child in my family has been my two year old.

I am not proud of my work history as it is rife with many roles in the food service industry. Not that it is not a fine and noble profession, but I stunk at it.  That being said, I have, against my will, developed the ability to put together a pretty damn handsome lunch platter.

Note the cheese hashtag

I go all out which, admittedly is a little ridiculous considering that a good portion of the time I am only using said platter to feed myself and a toddler. I personally would be content eating out of a glad bag as long as the food tasted decent. The two year old is less than impressed by this presentation as 9 times out of 10 she hardly looks at the food and when she does, it is quickly followed by a demand for something else.

The following is an approximation of how conversations in my home go around lunch time. You may notice that I have altered the toddler’s speech pattern and vocabulary. This is done for two reasons. First of all, toddler lisp is adorable to listen to but annoying to read. Secondly, it’s funnier this way.

Dad: Lunch time!

Kid: Father, I would prefer to continue viewing Bubble Guppies.

Dad: I know but we’ve already watched some TV today and now we need to eat and then take a nap.

Kid: Father, I am not tired.

Dad: I know you don’t think you’re tired, but you didn’t eat any of the eggs or toast or bacon that you had me make for breakfast. After we eat lunch then we have to take a nap.

Kid: About this lunch, what have you prepared?

Dad: Apples, crackers, cheese, and carrot sticks, just like you asked.

Kid: I tire of this lunch, I desire pizza.

Dad: We don’t have pizza.

Kid: I desire pizza.

Dad: But you asked me for apples and crackers and cheese, so that is what I made.

Kid: Pizza please.

Dad: If we aren’t going to have lunch then we should just go take a nap.

Kid: Father, I am NOT TIRED. I WANT to watch Bubble GUPPIIIIIIIIIIIIIES.

Dad: How about we eat lunch?

Kid: I want pizza.

Dad: …

Kid: I would also like to watch Bubble Guppies.

Dad: It’s time for lunch.

Kid: And Bubble Guppies.

Dad: Sigh, the TV is off, but you can watch more after your nap.

Kid: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Dad: Can we have a couple of bites?

Kid: GUUUUUUUUPIEEEEEEEES! Plate toss

Dad: Oh kid, that makes me sad, now we have to pick up all this food.

Kid: Noooooooooooo.

Dad: Let’s take a nap now.

This exchange typically ends with me scooping the toddler up and dropping her in bed where this conversation begins.

Kid: Father I would like my puppies.

Dad: Ok, here is one, two, three, four, five, stuffed puppies.

Kid: I also would like my rabbits.

Dad: One, two, three rabbits.

Kid: I need books now.

Dad: Kid, I don’t know if there is any room for you in the bed.

Kid: Books please.

Dad: Ok, here is your monkey book.

Kid: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO… robot book.

Dad: I’m not sure where the robot book is.

Kid: ROOOOOOOOBOOOOOOOOT BOOOOOOOOOOK!

Dad: sigh, I’ll go look for it.

Kid: ZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzz

Since I hate wasting food this commonly ends in me eating my lunch as well as hers. This explains how I am beginning to appear that I am just ending my first trimester. Somehow my child continues to grow despite the fact that I rarely if ever see her eat. This flies in the face of everything I know about nutrition and physics, as I was under the assumption that without an external energy source (food) a child would not grow. I have come to two conclusions, either my child is a mutant and will soon become master of the world through use of her super powers. Or she has found my secret stash of Snickers bars and is sustained by the snack that satisfies. You will excuse me now, I must replenish my stash.

L&P