Picket Fence Post

The kid’s an unbelievably difficult eater. Wants to subsist on sweets and carbs alone. The Spouse and I have tried — largely in vain — to convince him to eat healthy fare, offering a variety of fresh foods at meals and snack times, insisting that at meals he just try one bite of each item of healthy stuff. That’s all. One bite. Then the kid can go crazy with his pasta with olive oil and grated cheese, a few apple slices and baby carrots until the end of time.

On a recent night we stuck to our plan, insisting that the kid eat a small piece of the roasted chicken we put on his plate. One teeny piece. In fact we encouraged him to pop the small piece into his mouth and wash it down with milk, followed by a big bite of French bread. Did he listen? No. Instead, under much duress, he put the chicken into his mouth and, as he chewed it veeerrryy slowly, rolling it around his tongue. His eyes grew watery and red, glaring hotly at us as he seemed to be moving in slow-motion.

“Just swallow it!” we shouted.

But it was too late. Without ever swallowing it, the kid projectile vomited all over the table, all over the red and white striped place mats, the bowls of leftover food. It ran across the table and dripped through the space between the table and the leaf and onto the floor. It took The Spouse and I almost a half-hour to clean up the mess.

Now the kid has sworn off all chicken, a major staple of our family meals.

What’s that they say about the best laid plans?