How Books Are Destroying My Family, Part 1

Recently, I posted about how much I dread eating meals with Spawn.

One reason is that The Boy treats the "food" part of the meal as optional. He's always been picky, but things have gotten MUCH worse lately, to the point where he now eats roughly one forkful every other day. I am at a loss to explain how he has the energy to sustain his high level of physical activity, unless his body has figured out a way to extract calories from Crest Sparkle Fun toothpaste.

I’m afraid that if this goes on much longer he’ll go on a reverse growth spurt and start shrinking. He’s five years old, yet barely fills out a pair of 2T underpants. When I take him out in public, I can see thought bubbles floating over people's heads: She must be one of those crazy mothers that I've read about in the New York Post, starving that poor kid in a moldy basement somewhere.

So I've gone into damage control mode, trying to get him to eat at least ONE type of protein, and to figure out what touched off this charming little phase, because SOMEONE MUST PAY.

And then he brought home "Little House On the Prairie" and told me how they've been reading it at camp and how much he likes it, which surprised me because he usually isn't interested in books unless they have "Optimus Prime" in the title. But after reading a few pages, I understood the appeal. They might have been pluckily gentle pioneers on TV, but in the BOOKS, they're a bunch of axe-wielding survivalist nut jobs.

Excerpt from "Little House In The Big Woods:"
"It doesn’t hurt him, Laura,” Pa said. “We do it so quickly.” In a minute the hog stopped squealing. After that, Butchering Time was great fun. There was the heart, and the liver, and the tongue, and the head to be made into headcheese.

And THAT, my friends, is why The Boy no longer eats any sort of animal based protein. (As a sidenote, what in holy hell is HEADCHEESE? I thought it was the byproduct of a venereal disease, not something that anybody actually considered EATING.)

…Pa blew up the pig's bladder, which made a little white balloon, and he tied the end tight with a string and gave it to Mary and Laura to play with.

I blame THIS for the recent breakdown he had when we walked into his best friend's birthday party and spotted the decorations. And also for why he doesn't want to play soccer anymore.

“A census taker once tried to test me. I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti."

This is actually a quote from Hannibal Lecter, but it explains why I don't like Italian wines.

Now I am trying to find other activities for us to do together besides reading. But even the hot and heavy romance he used to have with the Wii has paled in comparison to his fascination with the ongoing saga of hog-slaughtering sadists.

And there are NINE frigging books in this series. Anybody know a good vegan recipe?

P.S. In response to comments, a running list of foods that The Boy refuses to eat can be found by clicking here.