Obviously

Me: What would you like for lunch?
Oldest: Grilled Cheese.
Middlest: Grilled Cheese.
Me {in my mind}: HALLEFREAKINLUJAH.
Me {out loud}: Okay. So you both would like a grilled cheese, yes?
Middlest and Oldest: YES!

Oldest to waitress: I would like a grilled cheese and the apple & yogurt medley, please.
Middlest to waitress: Please can I have a grilled cheese and apple yogurt medley?

Food is served.

Middlest: AHHHHHH! I didn’t want my yogurt wike this!!!
Me {feeling the eyes of those around me burning into my soul}: Jonah, that is how it is served.
Middlest: I DON’T WIKE THIS!
Me: You’ve never tried it, sweetie.
Middlest: I DON’T WANT IT!
Me {through gritted teeth}: Okay. Then don’t eat it. Just try your grilled cheese.
Middlest: I DIDN’T WANT GRILLED CHEESE!

Obviously.

Me: What would you guys like for dinner? We were thinking of ordering pizza.
Oldest: Yeah! Pizza!
Middlest: I don’t wike pizza.
Me: Okay. What would you like? {grumbling to husband and going against everything I stand for in motherhood: I will just make him something else. I have lost my will to live. Or at least fight about meals. For today.}
Middlest: Mac and Cheese.
Me: Okay! Sold. I will make you mac and we will get pizza.

Prepping mac. Picking up pizza. Plating dinner. Sitting down.

Middlest {shrieking}: I DON’T WANT THIS MAC AND CHEESE!!! I DON’T WIKE THIS KIND!!! I WANTED THE RAINBOWS!!! I WANTED THE RAINBOW KIND!!!
Me {wondering am I on candid camera?}: Jonah. You picked this kind out. At the store. It tastes the same as the elbow kind.
Middlest: I’M NOT EATING THIS!! I DON’T WIKE THIS!!! I WANT THE RAINBOWS!!
Me: You mean the elbows. And I am not making anything additional. You may eat this or you may eat the pizza that you don’t like.
Middlest: Yeah. I want pizza.

Obviously.

Next night:
Middlest: I want mac and cheese for dinner.

Obviously.

Every morning:
Middlest: I want sausage.
Daddy: Do you want your sausage or the mommy and daddy sausage?
Middlest: Mine.
Daddy: K.

Yesterday morning:
Middlest: I DON’T WANT THIS SAUSAGE! I want YOUR sausage. I don’t wike this sausage.

Obviously.

And another thing bites the dust.

Soon, the middlest will be living on coffee and nicotine. No wait, that’s Sheryl Crow and for her, every day was a winding road. But seriously. We’re nearing crisis mode around these parts. We did away with what we’d previously deemed the “no thank you bite” about six weeks ago when we were both tired of fighting hour long standoffs at the dinner table. Because seriously… ain’t nobody got time for that. And I started to think that forcing them to gag on food at every meal as their eyes watered and their Adam’s apples’ bobbed back and forth was just not worth the torture for me them.  So while, nearly every meal features a variety of foods including fruits and veggies, we just can’t get this kid to eat. Or to handle his food touching. Or it not being the correct shape. And I am about to stick his tiny Mickey Spoon into my eye socket and scoop out my baby blues. Because, as celebrity chef Curtis Stone has taught us that it is allllll our fault when our kids won’t eat a variety of foods. So that makes me feel pretty good about things. Because that means that his eating habits are alllll on me. Another feather in my motherhood cap.

But seriously, if our children do only learn from watching us, my kid should want to eat anything. All day long. I’m sure you’re thinking that we are giving him too many choices. And I’m also sure that you’re thinking, “they’ll eat when they’re hungry”. And these things I know… because I’ve been down a similar winding road before… with the oldest. I know, that this is just a complete and utter mind screwing that the kid is handing me. And someday, he will eat. And won’t cry and scream when his plate is put in front of him. But for now, I am completely rocking his world, one meal at a time.

Obviously. 

Middlest: Can I have a snack?
Me: You can have your plate from lunch that you didn’t eat.
Middlest: Nope. I’m not hungry.

Obviously.