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Thursday, April 12, 2007


I have one shot. I can succeed, or I can fail. There are no other options.

I'm talking about the four year old and food. He will try a new food exactly once. That's it.

If he likes it, it goes on his list of possibly-today-acceptable-but-tomorrow-not foods.

If he does not like it, he will never ever ever again try it. He has a mind like a steel trap and, years later, can look at something he tried once, in the dark, while he was feverish, and say, "I tried dat! I member! Idon'tlikeit."

Idon'tlikeit is one word in the youngest's vocabulary. A favorite, too.

Now before anyone offers up advice or admonition, let me point to the oldest, who will try anything and everything, whose favorite vegetable is spinach, who enjoys spicy. I believe that's what's known as Exhibit A in the I Am A Good Mommy Museum.

The youngest was born screaming, with colic, with strong opinions, with the ability to hold a grudge. In a word, he's mini-me, and I love him for it. And I understand it, and so I don't try to fight it. I work around it, and in this case, that means knowing I have one shot.

Bar-b-q, people. (Barbecue, for the sophisticated.)

He will try it exactly once. Please help me make it a roaring success. Tell me which BBQ joint in town has the best chance of winning him over.
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