What's Beetroot, Papa?

Whenever our grandchildren come over to visit, I feed them. Even when I know they've just eaten at home, I still find myself with head in the fridge or pantry,  in search of morsels to offer them.

Alaina's got her grub! 

I don't know why I do this.  It's like a disease.  I'm almost fevered.

When we are out on the town, the Machinist and I both feel the need to make sure our littlies are fed and watered.  We couldn't afford eating out or snack food very often when our children were young.  If we did - they had to share.

A large milkshake to share.  A coke to share.  Two sandwiches to share between the three of them. No wasting food.

Food is precious!

Oh, and it was always our choices for them, as they didn't know what was good for them.  They didn't know what we could afford, either.   They didn't care; they got used to it and were content.  No arguments, no embarrassing situations.

(Ahem.... Some of them, now that they are Young Adults, inform me that they were scarred for life, - having had to share with siblings.  No names.  No names!  Oh my heart bleeds.  NOT).  

I mention this as adopting this mindset on food, I must confess that my resolve wavered somewhat the other day, as we took our five year old out to eat shop eat.

"What would you like, darling?  What do you fancy today?", as I started to read the children's menu.

See?  Right there.... ?

Choices.

If there was a big red buzzer, it should have gone off at that point.....

Minutes later, our food arrives.  The children's burger is HUGE.  It has a pick in the middle of it.  There is lettuce, egg, bacon, burger pattie,  tomato, beetroot.  And a mass of chips.

I take off the pick, open the bun, chop up the burger pattie.  I urge our darling to eat more of the salad part, as I watch the chips diminishing rapidly.  Along with the bacon.

"Here, Babe, have some egg.  And some beef".

Evidence of Baby Chino

"Mama, I'm full"

"Aren't you going to eat the beetroot?  You should eat the beetroot.  I knew it would be wasted..", said Papa.

"What's beetroot, Papa?"



It would be better:

To have ordered what I thought was appropriate, and not ask the child - who didn't even know the flavour of some of the burger contents.

For peace sake - to choose something I knew she liked and would eat.

To always remember that children don't waste.  They don't understand value, nor do they care.  WE, as parents do that.  We cause waste.    Then we blame them.

Communicate well with your little ones.  Repeat when necessary!