We met Paul for lunch today at a local deli. Everyone ordered their own food. Did everyone eat their own food? Yes and no. Sara ate her lunch. Christian ate his lunch. I ate my lunch. Paul ate his lunch. Sort of. Christian and Sara ate Paul's lunch. Paul was happily munching away when he felt Sara's giant sad eyes on his coleslaw. "Daddy, Grumpy always shares his coleslaw with me." What kind of cold-hearted monster could refuse her? He handed it to her and picked up his sandwich. Christian pipes in. "Daddy, your num-nums look yummy. I has some?" Bye-bye sandwich. In our quest to raise non-picky eaters, we never noticed that we have raised food moochers. They will eat anything off anyone's plate. Sara once ate a classmate's lunch and defended it with "She was done and I was still hungry." She scammed our contractor's lunch from him with "You have blueberries. I like blueberries and it's nice to share." (Her weirdest snack ever was strawberry yogurt and clam chowder). My kids can out-eat a teenage football player.
We had dinner at a friend's house last night. I had no idea how much pizza my kids could pack away on someone else's dime. Answer - 3 slices each. Yes, they had snacks before bedtime, too. No wonder we don't get invited to dinner very often. People cannot afford to feed our kids. And their children would starve while my kids eat all the food.
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