Youngest son thinks I am somewhat strange. Let me change that. He thinks I’m truly weird. Well, lets just say that he believes that beyond a doubt I am the most peculiar person he’s ever known!
Probably, this belief is partly due to his age as I think most every 15 year-old boy figures their Mom is totally embarrassing. Or it may be that I’m into things he believes are totally weird. Reading spiritual and new-age books. Listening to meditative music. I always have candles on. Am burning incense. Have taken up Yoga. Meditate. Am trained in using Reiki. He thinks this is all a little too ‘out-there’. Hippy-ish. Never mind the usual silly faces I make, my feeble attempts at dancing when some good music comes on the TV, and on and on goes the list.
I could say the much the same of him in regards to his food choices.
He is a very picky eater. Which doesn’t always go so well with my love of cooking and trying new things. Let me say his diet pretty much consists of bread and chicken noodle soup. More bread. Lays S&V chips. More bread, chocolate milk. Chocolate Nesquick cereal. Granola bars. Oreo cookies. Oh right – roast beef and mashed potatoes. Pasta with dill & parmesan cheese. More bread.
His older brother is quite the opposite, eating almost anything and everything placed in front of him. Very quickly!
Saturday night is always a time to gather for dinner before we start another hectic week so I try to make something a little special to eat.
This week, its youngest son’s turn to unload the dishwasher, so I called him to do so just before I was to get dinner into the oven. Very soon afterwards, from the kitchen, I heard:
“What kind of concoction are you making for dinner tonight?”
I walked into the kitchen saying, “You mean, …..Mother, what lovely gourmet meal are you making with all your heart and soul for your family tonight?” in my very poor attempt at a British accent.
He didn’t think it was funny. He gave me one of those looks like I was again, so very odd.
He had noticed a bowl which contained a crumb mixture I was going to use for the chicken cordon bleu I was making. The breadcrumbs themselves wouldn’t have been so unusual, but I think it was the green specks (fresh parsley) in it that made him suspicious.
Turned out he liked it okay, in the end. Thank goodness for small miracles! I can add another dish to the menu that he will eat from!
Earlier in the day our two boys had come for breakfast with dear husband and I. The boys quite often do this on the weekend now, though they aren’t your typical breakfast eaters. None of our kids eat eggs. (Yes they did, however, as young children…..).
“Yuck. How can you eat those?”
“It’s like eating a primordial chicken. Like eating gene soup!”
I didn’t know what primordial meant, so had to ask.
They make me laugh.
I try to make them laugh.
This is a tough age for them. Though I admit many of my interests and a lot of what I talk about, are what much of the population regards as ‘questionable’ or quack-pot ideas, a lot of what I say to our kids is done just to make them lighten up a little. Show them that I can laugh at myself. To teach them that others can laugh at me if they like and I can be okay with that. Not to take everything in life or themselves all so seriously.