One of my greatest joys in being a parent is learning about the things that my daughter likes or dislikes and why. I think I always assumed that a child would kind of be like a carbon copy of me… clearly she’s not.
It’s always kind of funny to me to see how we’re different. Equally entertaining are the times my daughter picks to express her likes and dislikes.
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Last night my wife had one of her rare “girl’s night out” things, so my daughter and I were on our own for dinner. Rather than cook for one and a half I asked her where she wanted to go. She chose Hawthorne’s Pizza on 7th Street.
Now, believe it or not, my daughter likes her veggies… she always wants to make sure that she has at least one vegetable with dinner (“I don’t want to get blocked up”, she says), so we ordered a side of broccoli to go with her pizza.
She quickly declared the broccoli the best she’d ever had, raving to me about how soft it was, and how she could taste garlic, butter, and salt on it. About this time the waitress came by to check on us and that’s when my usually shy child spoke up in that overly loud small child voice we all know and love.
“What do you do to this broccoli? It’s the best I’ve ever had!”
The waitress confirmed that they do indeed steam their broccoli with garlic, butter, and salt.
(Poking me in the arm) “I was right! I told you I tasted garlic and butter and salt”
(Then, back to the waitress, even louder than before) “Well, I need you to tell my daddy how you do this. His broccoli tastes yucky. I’ll eat it if I’m hungry enough, but bbbbllllleeeeeeccccckkkkk I don’t like it. At all.”
I thought she liked roasted broccoli. My wife and I love it that way, but it would appear that the roasted broccoli gene skipped a generation. Something my fellow diners at Hawthorne’s last night can attest to.