St. Seuss
For some unfathomable reason I have produced an insanely picky kid. It’s really difficult to understand how that happened — it’s not like I refused to eat any non-starch veggie until I was in high school or anything. I definitely ate broccoli before I was 32. I’m totally not >about to be struck by lightning for lying.
She does far outpace me on pickiness. Her list of foods that she will eat grows ever smaller with nary an addition in sight. Until… Dr Seuss week! She got in the car after school and informed me that she would like green eggs and ham for dinner. Not only that, she told me she had eaten it earlier and liked it.
Once I scraped my jaw up off the ground I questioned her repeatedly to make sure she meant actual eggs and actual ham, not gummy eggs or ham-shaped cupcakes. This kid has eaten neither ham nor eggs since she was a very small toddler.
I cooked up some neon green eggs with deli turkey (shhhhh, don’t tell her) chopped up in it, and she FREAKING ATE IT.
She ate almost the entire bowl. Of eggs. And ham. Because they were neon effing green and Dr Seuss told her they would be delicious. Someone get the Vatican on the line, because this man just performed a posthumous miracle.
