DON'T BITE THE HAND THAT FEEDS YOU

I’m not a violent mouse.  However, I have had one or two fits in my life.  Two of them were about George not eating the food I cooked. 

Sounds silly?  He fixes his own breakfast, but I feed him the other two meals every day.  He eats the food if he likes it.  If it’s just OK and he’s not too hungry, he leaves it on his plate.  The least he could do is force it down!

Sometimes I, too, don’t like what I’ve cooked.  But if it’s not too bad, I eat it simply because it’s good for me and there’s nothing else to eat except cookies or cheese or something equally non-nutritional.  George is willing to substitute three packs of Nabs for a balanced but unappealing meal.  When he does that, I have to think even harder about what to prepare for his next meal that will get some nutrition into him via a picky palate.

Yesterday I carried his barely used plate to the sink and knocked the food off so hard it hit the wall.  That encouraged me and I did it some more.  George stayed very quiet.  I wasn’t at all happy with that so I marched back into the living room where he and his now empty TV tray sat and blessed him out about not eating what I cooked and about how hard I try to feed him things he likes that are healthy and about how he totally lacks appreciation when he eats candy bars and Slim Jims before supper.

He did better today.

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