Getting Ian to eat dinner is a challenge. He rarely wants to eat what I have fixed, even if he said it sounded good when I asked his opinion half an hour earlier. During the dinner hour, he is usually on the downhill side of consciousness, which doesn't help.
Tonight he was feeling pretty good. He even said so. I was hopeful he would be willing to try a bite of everything on his plate.
When we sat at the table, he zoned out as usual. When I took his fork in hand and attempted to test him to see if he was done, he grabbed the utensil from me and said, "Don't even think about it!"
"So, you CAN hear us," Steve said. "That's good. Now eat."
Ian looked at his plate, examining the peas, potatoes, and steak closely. Then, before our very eyes, the food started talking. It carried on a lengthy conversation about which one Ian should eat first, each extolling its own virtues and nutrient content. The talking got louder and more determined until it reached an all-out argument.
Finally, Ian said, "Enough! Shut up, you guys! All of you are very nutritious and are good for me. I think I'll eat the peas first since they are softest on my teeth."
Steve and I looked at each other in disbelief as Ian ate spoonful after loaded spoonful of peas. Then he moved on to his potatoes smothered in ketchup - the double whammy of veggies. Gone in just a minute.
All that remained was the steak. Ian stared at it. "I know the steak has iron and is good for me," he stated, then waited for just a few seconds longer before digging in. The boy who not long ago claimed the President told him he must be a vegetarian, ate every beefy bite of his perfectly cooked sirloin.
This child who has not had an appetite for months, cleaned his plate and then said, "Can I have dessert?"
"What does your tummy say," I asked.
He looked down at his belly and concluded, "It says there is a little more room for dessert." Boy and talking food groups were delighted to welcome a popcycle into the mix. It went down without a fight.
No comments:
Post a Comment