hominy
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My Blue Thumb - Book 1
My Blue Thumb - Book 1
Outside of the rare shark dinner, the boys usually ate, or properly hid, the foods they were dissatisfied with, until they tried hominy for the first, and likely the last, time. For reasons unknown to me, they took a huge disliking to the introduction of hominy. They all flat refused to eat it! So after a lengthy standoff, I sent them to their rooms. I was done arguing, but I wasn’t done parenting.
As I cleaned up dinner, I had a thought, all these little gems want to eat is sugar and junk, so maybe I will give them just what they want. I emptied my cabinets, drawers and refrigerator of every sugary treat I could find. Tubs of frosting, ice cream, cookies, soda, candy, jello, cereals, anything that had sugar in the top three ingredients was stacked high in the center of the table. Everything right down to the sprinkles in the cookie decorating kit.
Stepping back I admired my quick work, and summoned my hominy hating children for a feast of all feasts. Oh yes I did!
They cautiously entered the kitchen, baffled at the crazy pile of goodness covering the table. I instructed them to sit down and enjoy to their hearts content, all they want of anything there. Eat the entire box of cereal, a tub of frosting, drink down the sprinkles for all I cared.
They did not hesitate, they dived on the pile as if they had just returned from a deserted island. It didn’t take long for them to fill their happy little tummies. Sitting back in their chairs, mouths stained with frosting and sugary goo, I said, “Ok, let’s go outside.”
Their eyes suddenly panicked, looks of confusion bounced between them. “Outside?” they mumbled in unison.
“Now!” I said.
Staggering to their feet they put on their shoes and went outside. Eyes darting between them, wondering what was to come.
I calmly explained that now that they were content with their dinner of sugary bliss, it was time to run around the house, twenty laps. Go.
Together they started off down the sidewalk that circled the house, slowly they passed by me, looking fairly green in the gils. “That’s one lap, 19 more, keep it up, run don’t walk,” I coached.
It didn’t take long before the frosting found its way back out of the boys, and all over my sidewalk and lawn, but there were no more fights over dinner. If they didn’t like it, they didn’t have to finish it, but they could at least try whatever was in front of them.
I guess my mom of the year nomination never made it in that year.
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