The Green Food Strike

As most of you are probably aware by now, my kids are pretty crap picky eaters. That’s right. As a mother I have failed to make vegetables fun and fruit smoothies that actually taste good.  So it won’t surprise you to find out that The Kid won’t eat any vegetables and only eats bananas, pears and apples.  

Whoops.

So when The Baby came along, I lived in hope that the allotted fruit and vegetable gene distribution would be kinder to me this time and start dishing out some love. No such luck.

And so it pains me to say it but we’ve been having a 1 in 3 success rate with The Baby’s green to beige plate ratio, which of course only means one thing. Both Spratts are going to get scurvy and have mutant babies of their own. 

But why? I did everything right. I weaned them on gag inducing pea puree and chip shaped sweet potatoes. (Ok, and the odd bit of cheesy pasta bake and Wotsits.)  

If only I could ask them what the hell is going on in their crazy brains right now…..

Me: So errr, I was wondering girls, why don’t you eat any fruit and vegetables anymore?

The Kid: I hate anything and everything green mummy. Except green ice lollies and play doh.

The Baby: What she said. You know how it is when you’re 2 years old. Why put food in your mouth when you can try a table leg or part of daddy’s belt?  

Me: Most other kids at least eat fruit you know…

The Kid: Those kids are weak.  

Me: Eating all your fruit and vegetables will make you grow big and strong. Like Daddy.  

 The Baby: Screw Daddy.

 Me: Most baby books suggest that….

 The Kid: Hate books.

Me… should eat at least five fruit and vegetables a day.

 The Kid: Goodness woman! Get a grip! We aren’t eating anything that looks green/purple/orange or red. Maybe even yellow if the feeling takes us.  

Me: You’d feel a lot better if you did you know.

 The Baby: And you’d feel better if you just stopped banging on about it. And all this ‘here comes the fire engine’ in that twat of a voice makes you sound like a dick. Soz.

 Me: I wish someone would cook ME healthy meals…

The Kid: Here we go again…’boo hoo for you’. If you don’t stop complaining, then I’ll stop drinking those smoothies Grandma makes too.

Me: All right all right, lets not be to hasty here. I was just commenting that at three and two….

The Baby: Oh cut the crap lady. We know your game here.

Me: I don’t know what you mean sweetie?

The Kid: Yeah. We see you nervously clutching your phone ready to Google “how to get my kids to poo quickly” again. I haven’t been for three days now! Go me!

Me: I know darling. We can smell you from a mile away. See if you just ate your veg… and anyway, you make Googling sound like a luxury!

The Baby: Well isn’t it?

 Me: Err yes but…

 The Kid: What’s your game plan here? Hoping we both take a shit before we get in the car? Or are you bored of the twenty-minute toilet musical statues I make you play?

The Baby: Or my sudden need to wriggle my legs uncontrollably? 

 Me: I’m only ever thinking of you two!

The Kid: Well, I’m not eating anything that isn’t beige and covered in ketchup.

 The Baby: And don’t bother trying to grate them all up or hide them in Spag Bols. I’ll just go f*cking mental and chuck the cutlery at my sister and throw myself out my chair again. Try explaining that away to A&E this time!

Me: Okay….

The Kid: So let us make this crystal clear for you. We eat all kinds of food for Grandma, including mashed stuff. We don’t eat anything that looks or smells healthy at home. ESPECIALLY if you’ve spent an hour cooking it. Got it?

Me: Well sort of yes, but, er, I was wondering if you would be so kind as to switch it round every so often?

The Baby: No. Well now that’s sorted….

The Kid: The park!

 The Baby: But I wanted soft play…

The Kid: I SAID THE PARK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 Me: Sweethearts, it’s the weekend and blowing a gale. We’re going to be flipping cold at the park and I hate soft play.  

The Baby: Shoes. On. Now.   

Me: FFS

 

 

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