A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, children had the option of eating their dinner or going to bed hungry.
It was the best of times for parents who were in the midst of learning how to use microwaves to bake potatoes and cook bacon. It was the worst of times for children stuck in the back seat with no air conditioning vents or controllers to their own unit.
But still, those were the days when parents didn’t feel obligated to prepare 3 separate dinners: locally grown organic vegetables, slow roasted and hand blended for the baby, gluten free mac and cheese with grass-fed beef for the middle child, and a protein shake with USDA approved artificial sweeteners for the dieter. (Poor Mark.)
It all started with a simple question, “Who wants cheese in their scrambled eggs?”
“Not me,” the two youngest chimed in unison. The same two children who inhaled a box of macaroni and CHEESE the night before and fought over second helpings down to the last remaining elbow. The same kids who had to have a separate dinner instead of the lasagna everybody else was having.
“I don’t like cheese,” said Thing One.
“Me, neither, but I do like cheese pizza.” Thing Two expounded, proud of his well rounded palate.
My head spun as I asked for some clarification. “So, let me get this straight. You like macaroni and cheese AND you like cheese pizza?”
The golden heads nodded in unison.
“Then how can you not like lasagna?”
“Because we don’t like cheese!”
Of course, they don’t like cheese. I get it now. They will devour an entire pre-packed ham and CHEESE lunchable, eat a provolone and turkey roll-up, consume a block of chunky cheddar cheese. But, please… they don’t like CHEESE.
They like pulling the strings of their marionette parents and seeing how high they can spike our blood pressure, that’s what I think. This summer I think I am going to send my kids to Camp Fend for Yourself and see if maybe they can develop an appreciation for… cheese.