Blogging about kids, food, life and everything else.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Funny, but not P.C.
This is Miss Vivian Claire....my bay-bay. We call her Claire, Claire-bear, Vivi-Claire, baby girl, lil' sis, sissy, sister girl...you get the idea.
We HEART her.
And Claire?? She is a funny little thing. OH sure, you look at that picture and all you see is a little girl with crystal blue eyes, messy hair, a really cute farmer's tan, wearing an orange fish shirt and holding a resin bird from the dollar store, right?? I see that too...but I also see a kid with one of the most active imaginations ever.
And she is funny. Every day, I have a good laugh at her expense.
Today was no exception.
I received my Farm Fresh delivery as I do every Tuesday. Claire, being an unusually healthy eater, was super excited as I opened the box. One by one, we are pulling out our bounty, rubbing our hands together like evil scientists...Our mouths watered at the thought of all the great things we were going to make with the food. Suddenly Claire reaches in and grabs the eggplant.
"WHAT is THIS??" she says, all wide eyed and curious.
It's an eggplant. Claire cradles it in her arms as if it was an infant and begins to rock it.
"It looks like a baby!" "A Little BLACK baby!!" "I've never had a black baby before! Did you even know that babies can be black, Momma?"
Yes, I say. I do know that babies can be black. So, I proceed to explain to her that the eggplant is a vegetable, similar to the squash we cooked last week. I told her that we were going to slice it up and make a dish that will sort of taste like spaghetti with lots of cheese.
"How about we do it later??" She says. "Or maybe just not right now"
And she looks at me as if she will scream if I slice into that eggplant. No eggplant murder is on my agenda tonight, I tell her. We'll make it tomorrow.
Relieved, she sets the eggplant down and we continue to go through the basket of food and start to put things away. We were about finished when my phone rings and I leave the kitchen to take the call. Claire disappears upstairs to the playroom. I can hear her singing and talking up there.
This is what I found:
"We don't hafta eat it, do we momma??"
Yes. That's my daughter...with an eggplant in a baby bouncy seat...and a bottle.