“Mom, can you make me a sandwich? I want ham, but not ham and cheese…I hate cheese. Use that kinda ham that’s pink and thin, but doesn’t have that hard stuff on it…I hate that kind. Use that bread that’s not brown, but not really white…it’s like a bagel, but it’s not. Then toast it, but not too toasty…or I can’t eat it. Toast it so the toastiness is the same all the way around. And then when you cut it, cut it so both sides of the sandwich are exactly the same. Thanks, Mom.” Will-10
Poor picky eaters. In their quest for the perfect meal they are often left hungry and disappointed. This I know because I have one.
I wonder if food critics start out as picky eaters…wide-eyed, toussled-haired children, sitting at their mother’s kitchen table critiquing each meal. Constantly disgusted by the daily parade of sub-par cuisine. “Nope, sorry Mom…I can’t eat this. It’s too saucy, too cheesy, too spicy, too salty, too chewy, too slimy, too squishy, too soupy, too toasty, too crunchy and just plain nasty.”
I used to think this was an act of defiance, even a behavior that could be changed. But I have learned the hard way (think vomit on the floor) that you can not force, beg, bribe, or trick a picky eater into eating something that they find repulsive. I think these picky eaters are born with overly refined pallets, while the rest of us are stuck with trailer trash taste buds. While we are content to eat the too saucy, too cheesy and too toasty meals, these picky eaters are eagerly awaiting something better…food perfection.
Poor picky eaters. Poor parents of picky eaters.