The Bad Breakfast

As is my practice every morning, I gave my daughter Alexis breakfast this morning. Her customary meal for the last 2 months or so has been a piece of whole grain toast with jelly. Since bread is her favorite food and everything else comes in a distant second, she consumes this meal with great delight. This morning, however, I decided to tinker with the menu. Since her diet can best be classified as 80% bread, 15% pasta and 5% miscellaneous, my wife and I decided that we should try and modify these ratios and be a little more forceful with the fruits and vegetables. Also factoring into my decision this morning, was that we went to dinner at an Italian restaurant last night and Alexis's meal was essentially two baskets of bread and 3/4 of a meatball. All of that being said, when I put her in her highchair this morning, I definitely threw her a curveball. The first food I attempted to give her was bananas. Not a whole banana or a cut up banana, she'd never go for that (or any fruit in that presentation for that matter). The only way to possibly get her to eat fruit, is in the pureed, baby food variety. So she's in her chair, expecting her toast with jelly, and I come with the spoonful of bananas. Her first reaction is a look with a crooked eye as if to suggest, "Dad, are you fucking kidding me? This isn't what I eat for breakfast." I try again. Now she gives me a slightly stronger protest, the head turned away, as if to say, "Dad, seriously, I'm not eating this, stop joking around and get me my toast." One more try. Now she gives me the hand pushing the spoon away. A stronger protest suggesting, "DAD, FIND ANOTHER KID TO PUSH THESE SHITTY BANANAS ON! I'M HUNGRY AND DON'T FEEL LIKE PLAYING GAMES. GET ME MY GODDAMN TOAST!" I'm defeated with the fruit, but still have the mettle to try and mix up the diet. I go for the baby cereal with 2% milk. Again, I get a look as if to say, "Well, you've got balls, I'll give you that." She takes a spoonful, but again the look saying, "I'll humor you and eat a little of this, but don't for one second think this is acceptable or that I like it." We go through this routine with each spoonful as she disappointedly eats her cereal. My daughter's first disappointment--I took no pleasure from it. Every few minutes, I try and reintroduce the bananas. She looks at me like this is laughable. She finishes the cereal, but is still hungry. I decide to scramble her an egg. She wants food now though, so I try and bridge the gap with the Cheerios. She's a little bored with the Cheerios, but she certainly enjoys them more than either bananas or baby cereal, so I figure she'll see view them as an upgrade. In a way I'm right, because she eats some of them, but the majority are thrown on the floor as an overall protest to the meal. The eggs are now ready. I spread a few on her tray. She picks up a little piece and studies it. Puts it in her mouth. One second. Two seconds. Slowly spits it out and lets it dribble down her shirt. At this point her arms are raised, sugggesting "just get me the hell out of this highchair, this mockery of a meal is over". Twenty minutes later she goes down for her nap, disappointed by the events that have transpired. She shoots me a final glance before she lays her head down. There is no mistaking her message. "You better have one hell of a lunch planned."