From the get go, my ex didn’t see the big deal of serving multiple dinners, catering to each child’s whims. Of course, he wasn’t the one preparing the meal either.
Lately, I’ve noticed Elizabeth backsliding into Picky Eater territory. From stabbing at food with a pout, she’s now entered a stage where she claims she’ll only eat chicken nuggets and a salad.
Every other option is out.
From chicken enchiladas to lasagna to pot pie, she turns up her nose. I made macaroni and cheese with ooey, gooey cheddar and American to no avail. She picks at it with a fork, declares it “horrid” and excuses herself from the table only to beg a banana or apple just before bed. When I remind her I’m making her favorite dishes, she says, “I want chicken nuggets and a salad with ranch dressing.”
When I tell her that those items are not on the table for dinner, she informs me daddy always feeds her chicken nuggets and a salad. A quick phone call confirmed my fears. She had Daddy wrapped around her finger and since nuggets were easy and a salad was on the table anyway, he didn’t see a problem with accommodating her. He assured me he’d make sure she ate what was served from now on.
I know this is the first of many house rules battles I have in my future. I can only hope they end as well.
