“People Can Change, Mom.”
That’s what John told me last night.
I had made spaghetti and meatballs and I was plating up the kids the same way I have for years. Years.
Will – Noodles, little sauce, 3 meatballs.
Emma – Few noodles, little sauce, 2 meatballs.
PJ – Gobs of noodles, sauce, 5 meatballs.
John – Noodles only.
I was about to plate up some for myself, and I heard John softly ask for sauce and meatballs.
“What did you say, John?”
This is child number four. We haven’t cajoled, harassed, fought or cried for one second about his finicky eating. If he doesn’t like what I make for a meal, he can make himself a cheesy wrap. Done. No drama.
And yet, it must have been getting on my nerves. Because when John asked for sauce and meatballs on his spaghetti last night, I nearly broke into a dance… but I didn’t. This is child number four. We take it all in stride.
He looked at me and said with a little “like-duh” tone in his voice, “People can change, Mom.”
Yes, they can John. Yes, they can.
Here’s John from last week… BEFORE he decided to try spaghetti sauce & meatballs.
Back then, he was pretty tickled just to put a macaroni noodle on each tine of a fork.
P.S. After reading the first draft of this post, John said, “Just so you know, no matter what you do, I will never eat your Chili…”
To which, I just smiled and said, “People can change, John.” 🙂