$h*! My Kid Eats

We’ve all heard of the show, $h*! My Dad Says, and lately I’ve thought I could have one of my own, called $h*! My Kid Eats and feature Nicky’s food intake.  The other day I made a red curry paste and coconut milk chicken recipe for the first time.  It was so successful that Nicky ate two chicken breasts worth of meat bathed in sauce and accompanied by a cup of heavily buttered rice.

After a gigantic dinner he’ll often have a salad bowl filled with Froot Loops and topped with a litre of milk or cream.  And instead of being annoyed, we should all feel awed by the power of exercise.  It appears that if you work out like a son of a gun with heavy weights every day, you will develop quite the eating ability.

I’ve been quite organized lately, and it’s bothering me because I don’t understand it.  I think a lot of it has to do with my ability to force myself to get unpleasant things done even if I don’t want to do them.  Yesterday, for example, I made myself bake four dozen Okanagan Fruit and Rum bars, and I vacuum-sealed them this morning.

Ordinarily the fruitcakes would sit in their Tupperware container for days, waiting to be vacuum-sealed.  Meanwhile, I would be upstairs fretting about them, but refusing to do anything about it.  The tension would mount until I had orders to fill and then would have to work for hours, weeping.  Maybe I just grew tired of the drama of all that.

I was very fortunate to be mentioned in the November/December issue of EAT Magazine.  You can read the article on-line, page 37.  Next Wednesday I’ve been promised a mention in Maxine Dehart’s column in the Kelowna Capital News.  All of this helps tremendously.

I’ve now got orders coming in daily, either via my website from individuals, or by phone from the stores.  On Wednesday evening I’m going to attend a tiny, free craft fair at the Catholic elementary school which I’ve been told is well-attended.  As you know, I loathe these types of events, but one must do what one must do.

But then again, I say I loathe these events, and yet something good almost always comes of them.  Either I meet a really nice fellow vendor, or else someone I haven’t seen in years shows up.  Sometimes sales are actually good, and so it’s always an adventure no matter what.

Kind of like the awe-inspiring sage of the Kid that Ate Everything. Yesterday Nicky ate 10 or 12 pieces of bacon with four eggs scrambled with cream and four pieces of toast.  A while later I went downstairs.  I saw him lying on the floor and asked him if he was sick from too much bacon.

He said no, and that he was just stretching, but added the amount of food was “borderline too much.”  I’m kind of fascinated at seeing what the limit’s going to be. 

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