Son #2 likes to eat. He’ll eat just about anything, and yes, I’ve put him to the test.
I like kimchi. Correction: I love kimchi. It’s some of my favorite food, and I can eat it all the time, with every meal. That said, my wife hates it. So you know what that means. I don’t get it as often as I like.
I will be in the kitchen preparing to eat my beloved kimchi. I’ll get the gallon jar out of the fridge. I’ll get a napkin. I’ll get a fork. And twist the lid off as fast as possible. I’ll fork out a piece of the cabbage and close the lid. We’re talking two seconds max. Charity will holler from the other side of the house, “Are you eating kimchi again?”
So it’s fair to say that kimchi is pungent. It has a smell to it. I don’t know what the speed of smell is, but I’m persuaded the odor of kimchi exceeds it. Every time I open the lid, I hear a pop. I thought it was the fermentation, but I’m beginning to believe that it’s the sonic boom of the smell quickly permeating the air. And it’s scrumptious.
But that Son #2, he’ll eat it.
And he always wants a bite of whatever food I have. Every time I get something to eat, Son #2 wants it. I could be standing at the kitchen counter, he could be in his bedroom, I’ll get a piece of bread, and he will suddenly appear beside my kneecaps begging for a bite. The word “bite” was one of his first words.
But this child is not hungry. At all. He can’t be. Our grocery bill proves otherwise.
Recently, we drove through the local drive-through and picked up something for the boys and hamburgers for Charity and me. We brought it home, prepared a couple of plates for the boys, and sat down to eat our food.
I lifted the burger to my mouth and heard, “DADA! BITE!”
I looked over at Son #2. He was dipping his french fry in ketchup and chowing down, but he felt the urgency to have a bite of MY hamburger.
And I told him no. Yeah, you read that right. I said, “No. Eat your own food, you rascal.”
Then Son #1 piped up and gave me his two cents. We’re teaching him the Bible, but sometimes he makes up new books and inserts his own opinion in there and claims that Jesus said it.
“Daddy!” Son #1 instructed me, “In Galoshes chapter 24, verse 8, Jesus said unto his disciples, ‘Share!'”
“Galoshes?”
“Yeah. Galoshes says you gotta share.”
Well, he was right about the sharing, but I’ve never read the book of Galoshes.
I got up, walked around the table, and Son #2 took out half of my burger. Then he looked up at me, smiled, and said, “Day doo.” Which is, being interpreted, thank you.
“Yeah, no problem,” I responded. Then I walked back around the table to my chair and enjoyed my meal in peace.
I’m not starving by any means, but if he keeps it up, I will waste away into frail nothingness.
I’m going to have to start finding things he doesn’t like. I may have to resort to eating things like tuna eyes and cobra heart. I wonder if he’ll eat sardines?
to anyone who has to sneak food,
– Caleb
caneymountainblog.com 