My four year old son and I went to lunch today to celebrate that I've gone almost an entire day without sugar (baby steps, folks) and that I worked out today (more baby steps), and I had a coupon for a free kid's meal when you buy a regular meal and a drink at Bajio (my favorite place). No, it doesn't take much for me to deem it's a celebration. Anyway, I ordered a kid's quesedilla with red rice, and a chicken taco with black beans and rice for me. I figured that's about the plainest thing I could order for him, my little picky-pants. Well, it was not plain enough. There was no question on the quessedilla--he just wasn't having any of it. He did look encouragingly at the spanish rice, and took an enthusiastic bite, but then spit it out.
"There's CHEESE on it!" he said.
So I moved the offensive cheese to the side, and he started to eat. "Good rice," he said, and gave me the thumbs up sign. That is, until he saw a tomato there in the rice. "What's this?!" he demanded.
"That's a tomato," I said, "sometimes they put them in the red rice. That's what makes it red."
"Take it out!" the little dictator said. So, I found myself picking all the tomatos out of his spanish rice.
But then he looked up at me and smiled. "This is a great lunch, mom!" he said, "Except for the cheese and the tomatos, you did a really good job."
Thank you so much for you approval, kid. If only I were that picky about what I put in my mouth, maybe it would be easier to lose weight.