It’s Monday night, and that means it’s just me and the kids for dinner. We usually do something easy – leftovers, grilled cheese, something like that. But tonight I got out some frozen omelets. Not something I’d have bought, but they somehow found their way to my freezer. So we tried them tonight. Ham and cheese omelets. They’re not bad. They’re not particularly good either, but I’ll eat ’em. Bean will eat ’em doused in ketchup. Little Man, however, has issues with the omelets. And on top of that, he’s determined to put every single bite in his mouth, chew a little then wag his tongue out of his mouth while he shakes his head and omelet goes everywhere. Ketchup doesn’t help. Extra cheese doesn’t help. Bite. Chew, chew, chew. Tongue rolls out. Head begins to shake. And there’s that little bit of omelet that just won’t let go of his little tongue. So he thrusts his tongue in and out while shaking his head. Then stops, thinking, surely it’s gone. And he realizes it isn’t. So he tries again. When his mouth is finally free of the omelet, he carefully chooses another bit to try.
The first few times he did it I kept a straight face. But as I continued to watch him, and he continued to watch me as he every so slowly put each bite in his mouth, chewed a minute (making me think – hey, maybe he’ll actually swallow this time!), and then spit it out while shaking his head, I lost it. Floor rolling, gut clutching laughter. And that made the problem worse. And of course there was no one else around to witness the fun. Except for 2-yr old Bean. And she was in hysterics too – only I was the object of her laughter. So now, my tile floor is covered in cheesy-ketchupey-half masticated eggs. And so is Little Man’s face. And his hair. And his clothes. And his chair. But hey – at least he cleaned his plate!