What is it about kids and food? They love it, they hate it. It makes them giggle with joy and anticipation, it makes them cry. There is nothing more frustrating than worrying about what your child does or doesn’t eat, or how much. When my son Eric (aka Rocky) was an infant he was such a picky eater, that every time I gave him baby food he would throw it up on his high chair tray. My concerned mother offered to babysit him and took the opportunity to puree all of his vegetables straight from the garden. Ultimately, he threw them all up on the high chair tray too. When Eric was a toddler he only ate graham crackers. We stocked the pantry full until, one day, he shook his head “No” to graham crackers. That was the beginning of the long list of the only “one food” that my child would eat until he became sick of it. I don’t get it but I have learned that it will all turn out okay in the long run. So for a few moments, put aside the incessant worry that your child isn’t eating enough of the right things or getting the proper nutrition and embrace the crazy ride.

Did you ever buy something just because you had a coupon? When Marc was four years old I picked up a bag of Tyson frozen Any’Tizers: Chicken Cordon Bleu…they came in a small appetizer ball, easy to eat. I followed the instructions, heated them up and served them as a side with our family dinner. Needless to say they were a big hit! Marc announced at the dinner table, “Can I have some more blue balls? I LOVE blue balls!”

Good for you, Marc. I’ll check back with you in twenty years on that statement. Enough said.

Eric would only eat spaghetti…any other kind of pasta became a negotiation…”But Eric, penne pasta is spaghetti’s cousin…” all to no avail. Eric only liked spaghetti. One day at my parents house, my mom made stuffed shells for dinner. She thought nothing of reaching over to cut Eric’s stuffed shells in half so they would be easier for him to eat. Once Eric saw the ricotta cheese inside, he was mentally done with the meal before he even started.

“Eric, eat your dinner.” my father stated

“No.” Eric replied

“Why won’t you eat it?” my father asked

Eric said, “Because I don’t like it.”

“How do you know you don’t like it if you haven’t even tried it?” my father inquired

Eric replied, “Well, I tasted it with my eyes Papa, and I know I don’t like it.”

Maybe we’ll never understand what is inside of the mind of a child when it comes to food. What I have learned is to take it all in stride and laugh out loud when the situation presents itself…before you know it you will be shopping for and feeding a teenager that lives to work out and consumes a protien only diet.

Can I interest you in a Chicken Cordon Bleu Ball…I have a coupon?







8 thoughts on ““I Tasted It With My Eyes And I Don’t Like It”

  1. Thankfully my son was never a picky eater. In fact, Matthew was more of an adventurous eater and is still so today. My theory is that because his nose was always stuffed up, he gravitated towards foods that had strong flavors. On Sunday after church we’d buy a bag of bagels and then go home and brew a big pot of coffee and then sit at the dining room table to read the newspaper and look at all the circulars at things we couldn’t afford even at the sale prices. One Sunday, when Matthew was about 18 months old, I had left my coffee on the coffee table. We were knoshing on bagels when my wife and I heard a loud thump coming from the den. What’s that? I got up to investigate. “Honey, come here – you have to see this!” Matthew was standing at the table in his onesie (we had learned by that point to remove his church clothes as soon as we got home) and with both hands was clutching my coffee mug. With his head back, he held the mug to his lips and drank what little remained in the cup. Then THUD as he slammed the mug down on the table. He gave us a toothy grin and I noticed a small stream of coffee had wended its way from his chin to his belly button.
    Matthew continued his unusually adult palate, choosing piquant and spicy foods over Graham and animal crackers. I would be preparing broccoli for dinner and this small hand would rise up and hover over the cutting board and then land on a trimmed piece of broccoli, snatch the strong flavored cruciferous prize. I would him pitter patter away and then wait for the next assualt on my dinner plan. He liked vegetables and rice so much my wife and I decided to only put meat on his plate to start dinner, only adding the rest when he had made satisfactory progress on the main entree.


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