Posted by Blue Momma / 7:25 AM /
I've never questioned the maternity of my child. Or the paternity, for that matter. But I've never questioned it.
I had Punkin' via c-section. Within seconds of his birth, they slapped one of those tracking bracelets on his arm so that he couldn't be snatched by some loony. He stayed in my room with me for all but a couple of hours when I HAD to have some sleep.
He also has my eyes. And my temperament. His temper flares just like mine does. If he gets mad whatever is in his hand is likely to fly at you. We both like animals and we both like to read (ok, be read to, but you get it). He loves bacon and mac & cheese and lemonade and Captain Crunch. Just. Like. Me.
Yesterday my kid, yes my kid, Blue Momma's kid, the fruit of my loins, my progeny, my offspring, my. little. man. My Punkin'. Guess what he did?
He at broccoli for lunch.
No shit. He ate it. And he liked it.
What has happened? The universe is all askew. Eat broccoli? MY kid? No tears, no pleading on my part. He just ate it. Ate it all.
Now I don't like vegetables. I eat tomatoes, potatoes, corn, fresh spinach, and butter beans. The end. That's it. I wish I liked them, salads look great, but I just don't. And yes, I've tried vegetables. And no, I don't want to eat them fried. Or smothered in butter. To me, that kind of defeats the purpose of a vegetable. But I don't even want to eat broccoli. Even with cheese and cheese rocks my world.
Broccoli stinks. It has a weird texture. It looks like little trees, and I most certainly don't eat trees. What am I, a giraffe? It is just gross. And did I mention it smells really bad?
So what happened with my Punkin'? I guess he's gonna take after his daddy, who will eat anything you put in front of him. I just can't imagine how someone so like me could do something sooo different.
But I'm glad. Hopefully Punkin' will grow up to eat a more balanced diet than his old mum. More balanced and more nutritious. He'll grow up strong and healthy and happy and like all kinds of things.
But every time I pull the film off of his little bowl of frozen broccoli, I'll wonder if he's really mine.