Living Columns & Blogs

On lasagna

My son is in one of those phases that no matter what I put in front of him he declares, “I don’t like .... ”. Insert whatever you would like on that blank line.

It is one of those situations where I am quite sure my mom cursed me, and this is her fault.

I was a horribly picky child, and my mom and I battled over food until I went into high school. Maybe even later. I am sure she uttered the words, “Just you wait…” at some point.

The other night we had friends over for a playdate and dinner.

We all found seats outside and the first thing out of my son’s mouth was “I don’t like lasagna”.

I have tried the old, “It’s just noodles, sauce and cheese, all things you like" routine. I was ready to just leap to the, “Well, if you don’t eat it, then no dessert for you,” when my friend’s son piped up.

“Mmm,” he said, “this is so good!”

I wanted to go over and hug the child.

First off, to get a compliment on my food from a 4-year-old is something I strive for daily, but don’t expect to receive pretty much ever. But mostly, I wanted to hug him because my son paused, looked at his buddy shoveling his lasagna into his mouth, and silently picked up his fork and ate *almost* everything on his plate.

I am wondering if his parents mind me borrowing and feeding him every night?