Every kid has a favorite food. You know the stuff I’m talking about: Cheetos, cotton candy, Cocoa Puffs. Hannah would trade them all in, every time, for an egg and cheese sandwich on a toasted bagel. Preferably with bacon. Occasionally, I’ll treat her to a run through the Dunkin’ Donuts drive-thru, which always results in repeated, grateful exclamations of “Yummy!” and “THANK YOU, Mommy!” from the backseat. Hannah didn’t even know what bacon was before she had one of these babies, because the stuff I cook at home is usually of the turkey variety.
Today we went on a mission to find soccer cleats. Since a) it was lunchtime, and b) I was really jonesing for an iced coffee, Hannah got her Sunday wish for her favorite sammich.
She snarfed down the first few bites, then abruptly stopped, and looked at her lunch.
Me: What’s up, Hannah?
Hannah: Did this bacon come from a pig?
Me: Yep. Meat comes from animals, Hannah. Why, does that bother you?
At this point there was a long, long pause from the back of the car, so I started planning for the impending food strike. I began making a mental list of alternate protein sources, in case the conversation went in that direction.
Dead air. Then:
Hannah (to her lunch): Sorry, Piggy, but you’re just too delicious.
She ate every crumb.
My carnivorous seven year-old poses with her new cleats and official team jersey.