Feeding Time at the Zoo
Now, don’t get me wrong, I love my daughter to bits. However, her eating habits leave a lot to be desired and by that, I mean she’s disgusting. She’s the only person I know that thinks mixing broccoli and chocolate pudding is a good idea.
Let’s take last nights dinner as an example. Dining starts with the obligatory pre-dinner shit. This is generally a lot more potent than at other times of the day as she’s just had enough time to digest lunch. Since she’s moved onto solids, all kinds of evil are now appearing down below.
Once cleaned and stripped naked (apart from the nappy- only a fool would remove the nappy!) She’s now safely strapped into the high chair. This is swiftly followed by lots of banging hands on the plastic table thingy accompanied by the noise she makes just prior to having a shit. I ought to upload a video to do it justice! Anyhow, this is all basically code for hurry the fuck up dad, I’m starving!
In an attempt at pacifying the monster, I swiftly go to my secret weapon… the tomato and basil melty sticks! These tend to go down a treat and give me just enough time to heat the main course in the microwave.
Ahh, the main course, the piece de resistance! Last night it was puréed roast chicken dinner.
Puréed roast chicken dinner! WTAF!
The mind boggles at how they condense an entire chicken dinner into one of those small jars. I would like to say that it tastes alright. However, it doesn’t. It tastes bland and much like the spaghetti bolognese from the night before!
It soon becomes clear that the taste is the least of my problems. At this point, what I should be more concerned about is the overwhelming urge my daughter now has to knock the spoon/ airplane out of my hand in mid-flight. This results in “roast chicken dinner” now being spread over the table which in turn invites daughter to gleefully rub hands (and sometimes feet) into the brown mixture.
Hands then rapidly find there way into hair.
She then looks at me with a face that says: IDIOT! YOU KNEW I WAS GOING TO DO THAT! WHY FOR THE LOVE OF GOD MAN DID YOU NOT STOP ME!?
It’s important to note at this point that she looks like she’s been tangoed.
At this stage in proceedings, the mid-dinner farts begin. Sometimes this is just farting and nothing more. On this occasion, however, she was a little overzealous when pushing one of these stink bombs and swiftly followed through. Quick change and then back in the high chair.
So, now we’ve battled through the first and main courses and we’re both still alive. Time to introduce some solid food. Last night it was chunks of chicken to complement the puréed version from earlier! Now if you’ve never tried feeding your little one lumps of meat before, I would highly recommend wearing some form of mask/helmet. I myself opted for swimming goggles which at least gave my eyes some form of protection from the chicken which has now become a very effective projectile.
A pattern quickly began to emerge of eating one, throw one. By eat I mean rub chicken somewhere near the mouth area and hope some of it goes in.
After 10 minutes or so of this charade, we decided to give dessert a go.
Rice pudding. God only knows why I thought Rice pudding would be a good idea but hey the lord works in mysterious ways… apparently.
Rice pudding is a slightly thicker consistency than puréed chicken (I shudder to think what that poor chicken went through!) and she loved it! She actually inhales the stuff like it’s going out of fashion. Turns out she has a sweet tooth! All of it, that is, except the last spoonful, which you guessed it joins the puréed chicken dinner in the hair.
This leads to the next part of the evening routine. Bath time!
But that’s a story for another day!
I’m Mark Godfrey from Daddy McDadface; a 36-year-old dad blogger looking at the lighter side of parenthood. Sharing my adventures with my daughter whilst banking lots of embarrassing stories for her 18th birthday!