I call Sprout the human garbage disposal because she will pretty much eat anything. The problem is, she does not limit herself only to her plate. No matter how much she may be enjoying her meal, if she thinks that somebody has something different on their plate she’ll point and ask...no she will demand a bite. If her food is cut up while mine is whole she will want some of mine, even though we’re eating the same thing. She's not only curious, but she's relentless too. Like the Terminator, she will not stop until she gets what she wants.
The other day WonderWife™ and I dragged the kids out on another food seeking excursion, which we're prone to do if a friend turns us on to a place or something catches our eye on the Food Network. My meal came with a mildly spicy tomato relish. Sure enough, Sprout pointed to my plate and says, “This!”
“It’s spicy,” I told her. “You’re not going to like it.”
“I want it,” she said matter of factly.
"You really don't."
Sprout didn't take no for an answer and in between bites of her food, she kept gesturing to my plate.
“Okay, fine,” I said placing a small piece on my fork and feeding it to her.
A few seconds later, Sprout has a look I’ve never seen before on her face—confusion with a sprinkle of discomfort. It's the same look I got that one time I was told the Buffalo wings were mild when they really were hot. The spice had kicked in and Sprout was not happy. Knowing water makes the heat from spicy foods worse but not having any milk available, I did the only thing I could do and gave her some potato to try to cool her mouth down. This Sprout promptly rejected, having learned her lesson not to accept any more food from Daddy.
All the while, WonderWife™ is staring daggers in my direction in utter disbelief that I actually fed my child something we both knew was going to illicit this reaction.
I gave her a sheepish grin and said, "Well, at least now she knows what 'spicy' means."