I decided to take Angel to the Sushi Station for dinner last night in a vague attempt to introduce him to something other than the collection of mass produced plastic, polystyrene and petroleum byproducts that passes for food at McDonalds – with less than stella results.
He whinged and bitched and moaned, and said he didn’t like things before he’d even tried them, and had to be coerced and cajoled at every mouthful into eating stuff he normally eats anyway! Rice, avocado, tuna, prawns, chicken etc… all stuff he eats at home, but you wouldn’t believe how he turned his nose up at it served up looking like sushi. And I wasn’t even remotely stupid enough to put some of the more adventurous fare in front of him. Sigh.
But eventually, mainly due to some overt bribery, I managed to ensure that he had a decent enough sized meal that I wouldn’t have to come home and prepare him something else… but fuckin’ hell… it’s like pulling teeth. Spending your meal haranguing and browbeating a small child into trying something different is not my idea of a fun night out – not to mention that it is hardly beneficial for one’s own digestion! <insert rolling of eyes here>
So imagine my surprise when in the car after I picked him up this afternoon, he blithely asks if we can go back to the ‘Train Food again tonight, cos it’s really yummy and lots of fun, Mum!’ 😐
I give up!
.