Hurricane has made it his mission in life to prove that the human body does not require food in order to live. In fact, the less food eaten, the more destructive one can be.
Today he ate exactly 3 goldfish and was insulted when I suggested that maybe, just perhaps, his little body would like to eat something else. Anything else.
Food Offered / Hurricane's response
Pancakes / *poke, poke* squish!
Cereal / "Bleh!"
Bananas / "RARRGGHHH!!" Smash!
Grilled Cheese / Down right insulted and possibly a little disgusted
Toast / "All done" Need I mention that he didn't actually take a
M&M's / *sigh*
What kind of kid refuses M&M's for dinner?
The thing that has convinced me that this is all a plot by my toddler to make me crazy, is that every night he pushes me in to the kitchen and asks "dinner?"
By the end of the night he will have eaten exactly nothing. He will, however, have spent two hours screaming and running up and down the hall, occasionally in circles. He will have pulled down the Ikea stand in the living room, scattering his books around the living room. He will have gotten into my craft desk several times.
I will have had to hide his Weebles in order to save his sister from being brained. I will have made several different meals which he will have refused to eat.
So why do I bother? Why, night after night after night, do I continue making meals I know he won't eat?
Because someday he will. Someday, he'll pick up that fork and actually put it in his mouth instead of throwing it at me.