Pick your Poison

I don't consider myself a very picky eater. There's not much I won't try at least once. (There are plenty of things I won't try twice, but in general, I'm not terribly picky.) I had a bunch of coupons for frozen bagged vegetables, so I thought it would be fun to try something new... brussel sprouts. (No, Mom, you never once served brussel sprouts when we were growing up. Unless you served them when we were teeny tiny and we complained and moaned so much that you decided to stick with the more preferred green vegetables- in which case, they were so disgusting that I blocked the entire ordeal out of my memory.)

Yes, I do believe that's what happened. Seeing as my kids are being much more picky about what they will eat these days (what happened to the baby who would eat asparagus?!?) I've decided to employ a few tricks to entice them to eat what I make, which in all reality, is not the least bit strange.

What's weird about meatloaf, scalloped potatoes and brussel sprouts? (Besides the fact that brussel sprouts do taste like smelly feet?) I've decided to go all Jessica Seinfeld on my family to get some nutrients in them, so yes, there was pureed cauliflower in the potatoes. I didn't have time to include obsure veggies in the meatloaf, so we'll have to assume for this meal that ketchup is a vegetable. I did add some chopped onions, which also counts in my book.

On to the brussel sprouts, or as I called them, "Monkey Balls." DM couldn't remember if he'd ever had brussel sprouts but he was game, so we both loaded up our plates with Monkey Balls.

Big mistake. In case you're wondering, brussel sprouts are disgusting and truly not meant for human consumption. And yes, I did eat every single one on my plate. I have a very impressionable 3 year old looking up to me. (That did not stop DM and me from pretending to vomit when she wasn't looking.) But BigM enjoyed them so much she asked me if she could have leftovers for lunch tomorrow. That has never happened, in the history of the world, ever. I was all set to throw the copious amounts of leftovers in the trash, but hey, if she wants to eat them, by all means, knock yourself out kid!

In other hilarious BigM news- we play this game most nights at dinner called "Best Part/Worst Part." (Okay, so it really doesn't have a name, but that's a good title for it.) Basically, everyone goes around the table and says the Best Part of the day and the Worst Part of the day. Well, everyone except LM. BigM and I usually offer up suggestions about what *could* have been her best and worst parts.

BigM always goes first- and tonight her "best" was "seeing Daddy when he got home" and he "worst" was "not seeing Daddy while he was at work" (the italics is kind of like in the Bible- words added for clarity to those reading.) DM got all warm in fuzzy inside and started to say his best when BigM excitedly interrupted him.

"And YOUR best was seeing me, right?"

At least she's humble and modest. And becoming a much less picky eater.