Of Battles And Battle Cries
The scene: dinnertime. Ethan, Gabe and I are sitting around the dinner table, surveying the fruits of my 1.5 hours of labor: a chicken and broccoli casserole. It came out perfectly, and I proudly dished heaping platefuls of it to myself and my progeny.
Me: "Okay, boys! Let's eat!"
Gabe: *grabs his fork, enthusiastically digs into casserole, scooping up big bite and eyeing it hungrily*
Ethan: *tilts his head, looks thoughtfully at casserole*
Gabe: *shoves fork full of chicken and broccoli into his gaping mouth with a smile*
Ethan: "What's in this?" *pokes at casserole with his fork*
Me: "It's casserole. It's really good. It's got lots of cheese. You love cheese."
Gabe: "Cheese!"
Me: "Yes! And it's got broccoli, which looks like trees. You know, like the dinosaurs - lots of them ate trees."
Gabe: "Trees!"
Ethan: *frowns at casserole* "I already know I hate it."
Me: "You haven't even tried it!"
Gabe: *chews bite of casserole, suddenly grimaces, spits entire bite back onto his plate* "No! No more!"
Ethan: "See? Gabe hates it too."
Me: "Hate it or not, you know the rule. You need to at least try it. I want to see you eat a bite."
Gabe: *shakes his head, still grimacing* "No! Sorry!"
Ethan: pushes plate away from him* "I can't eat this. I cannot, Mommy."
Gabe: *bursts into tears* "TOO YUCKY FOR ME!"
Me: "Hey! What's going on here? This is dinner! I didn't put strychnine in this, it's casserole! Eat it!"
Ethan: *looks solemnly at me* "I will die if you make me eat this."
Me: *gets up, walks to phone, picks it up, dials numbers*
My mother: *on other end of phone* "Hello?"
Me: "How did you do this? How did you cook for children? How did you survive this? How am I supposed to --"
My mother: *laughing uproariously*
Me: "ARE YOU LAUGHING AT ME?"
Gabe: *still crying* "No trees! No cheese! No more casserole for you!"
Ethan: "I hate this so much, I might have to launch a rocket at you."
Me: *into phone* "How can I get them to eat this casserole?"
My mother: *still giggling* "Good luck with that."
In other news, Ethan has finally chosen a battle cry. It's taken a few years, and he's tried various words and phrases ("SPOON!", "Aye carumba!", "Banzaii!"), but none of them quite fit the bill in his opinion. This evening, he settled on one. He loaded his Nerf rocket launcher, climbed to the top of the sofa, aimed directly at Gabe, shouted, "FOLLICLE!!!", and fired. And thus, a battle cry was born.
Me: "Okay, boys! Let's eat!"
Gabe: *grabs his fork, enthusiastically digs into casserole, scooping up big bite and eyeing it hungrily*
Ethan: *tilts his head, looks thoughtfully at casserole*
Gabe: *shoves fork full of chicken and broccoli into his gaping mouth with a smile*
Ethan: "What's in this?" *pokes at casserole with his fork*
Me: "It's casserole. It's really good. It's got lots of cheese. You love cheese."
Gabe: "Cheese!"
Me: "Yes! And it's got broccoli, which looks like trees. You know, like the dinosaurs - lots of them ate trees."
Gabe: "Trees!"
Ethan: *frowns at casserole* "I already know I hate it."
Me: "You haven't even tried it!"
Gabe: *chews bite of casserole, suddenly grimaces, spits entire bite back onto his plate* "No! No more!"
Ethan: "See? Gabe hates it too."
Me: "Hate it or not, you know the rule. You need to at least try it. I want to see you eat a bite."
Gabe: *shakes his head, still grimacing* "No! Sorry!"
Ethan: pushes plate away from him* "I can't eat this. I cannot, Mommy."
Gabe: *bursts into tears* "TOO YUCKY FOR ME!"
Me: "Hey! What's going on here? This is dinner! I didn't put strychnine in this, it's casserole! Eat it!"
Ethan: *looks solemnly at me* "I will die if you make me eat this."
Me: *gets up, walks to phone, picks it up, dials numbers*
My mother: *on other end of phone* "Hello?"
Me: "How did you do this? How did you cook for children? How did you survive this? How am I supposed to --"
My mother: *laughing uproariously*
Me: "ARE YOU LAUGHING AT ME?"
Gabe: *still crying* "No trees! No cheese! No more casserole for you!"
Ethan: "I hate this so much, I might have to launch a rocket at you."
Me: *into phone* "How can I get them to eat this casserole?"
My mother: *still giggling* "Good luck with that."
In other news, Ethan has finally chosen a battle cry. It's taken a few years, and he's tried various words and phrases ("SPOON!", "Aye carumba!", "Banzaii!"), but none of them quite fit the bill in his opinion. This evening, he settled on one. He loaded his Nerf rocket launcher, climbed to the top of the sofa, aimed directly at Gabe, shouted, "FOLLICLE!!!", and fired. And thus, a battle cry was born.