Food Fights and Other Lies

     Food Fights and Other Lies       

 

           My twins had two days off from school due to Kindergarten Round-up, preschooler’s get to be in kindergarten for a day and see what all the fuss is about so the kindergartener’s vacate the classrooms to let this happen. I needed to get out of the house so I took my little boys out to a tiny local restaurant for pie. Naturally they decided on French fries but anyway…As we were driving there to meet my dear friend Christy, Drew decided to give one of his amazing explanations on how things are made or why they work the way they do. Today’s topic was pie, and not just any pie but pumpkin pie. He launched into his description and I was enthralled. You see, according to Drew you have to cut off the top of the pumpkin. Sounds right to me. Then you add all the ingredients into the pumpkin with the top lobbed off and stir those together so that you get the inside of the pumpkin to come loose and then you have the pumpkin that you need to make your pie. You then need to add oranges to get the orange color. I asked him if the color didn’t in fact come from the color of the pumpkin. Nope, not at all I’m told. I go with it, I know nothing of pie making and who am I to say he’s wrong? It’s a well thought out explanation even if we are a little fuzzy on what the other ingredients are.

                Drew was particularly rotten the day we went for pie and fries with Christy so when we got home I put him to bed, the worst punishment I could ever instill. We stared each other down, we argued, he turned his back on me to really let me see how unhappy he was with me. Fine, he went to bed, I joined the rest of the family downstairs. A little while later I hear a pathetic little voice calling for mom. I give him a little while longer to sound pathetic before I go to his room for round two. I enter; he’s in bed, looking sad and forlorn in his unhappy lot of being my child. The horror. We size each other up. He speaks first, his first mistake and a sign of weakness. "Can I get up?" I ask why he would want to, he was perfectly happy being rude to me and my friend at our pie/fries fest earlier, he apparently liked the idea of an early bedtime as he worked so hard to get it. He tells me he is bored. Ha! Another losing statement from the amateur. You weren’t at all bored when you were kicking my seat on the ride home I tell him. Then he comes up with a winner, damn. "But I want to exercise so that I can stay healthy and strong." Ok, that’s a good one and funny, not to mention riddled with bull. We hug it out, he agrees to be good, I feel we both came out of this one okay.

 

             I had Chinese with my friend Rachel the other day and had brought home my little leftover box. Before it was thrown into the recycle Adam saw it and was fascinated. He just didn’t understand it. He kept looking at it and shaking his head. He finally looked at me, pointed to the picture of a pagoda and a man in samurai gear on the side of the carton and asked why would I want to eat samurai? Trying to explain to him that it was not samurai that was in the container but rather beef with broccoli was not going over well. I told him that the picture on the side of it was not a picture of what the food looked like or even where it came from but was just a picture from the culture. Nope, he knew his mom and Rachel had eaten some poor samurai warrior for dinner.