Whenever the Little One eats, I’m reminded of Jimmy Buffett and ‘Cheeseburger in Paradise.’ She’s not a huge fan of hamburger, but any other meat disappears from her tray faster than the dogs go after Cheerios that fall on the floor.
Ham, steak, chicken, hot dogs, sausage. She loves it. If it’s on her tray, she gobbles it up. (Unless it’s too well disguised — chicken in spaghetti sauce — she won’t eat it.) Whatever the meat product is, it’s the first thing gone from her tray. If she sees more on your plate, she whines to the point of a tantrum until you share.
For lunch on Sundays, we always have pancakes and smokey links (sometimes called roasties, but not by my mother, but that’s another story. She claims she doesn’t call them that, she just calls them roasties. huh?) We require that the kids eat at least one pancake before getting their allotted two roasties. (There are days when they would each eat a whole package. The fat content of that makes me just a bit queasy.) The twins are filled with excitement at the prospect of cutting their roasties. They wield their forks and hack away at the little sausage links. Not so with the Little One. Of course, hers are served pre-cut. She scarfs them down so fast the first bite is barely past her lips before the second piece is on its way up – a process I’d call chain-smoking. In a matter of seconds, they are gone. The little finger points to my plate. Anything else offered ends up on the floor. Yesterday, I tried to hide my roasties under my pancakes, but to no avail. She just wasn’t fooled.
We call her ‘our little carnivore.’ I wonder if she dreams of cheeseburgers.