We've struggled for a few weeks now to get you to eat regularly. You'll devour the salty stuff, veggie straws, pretzel sticks and cheese crackers, but a homemade meal ... not a chance.
Uncle Kris tipped me off to an excellent rib roast recipe that we decided to try. Admittedly I overcooked it a bit, I know you're shocked. When you read this you'll know and appreciate my culinary skills.
My transgression aside, we offered some of the roasted red skin potatoes. "No."
Maybe a forkful of sweet corn? "No."
It turns out you have caviar taste on a SPAM budget. We were down to our ace in the hole, the prime rib. Mom sliced a few small bites and you devoured them. A couple more, sucked up like a vacuum cleaner.
You ate, and ate and ate.
You were eating it so quickly that mom didn't have a chance to eat her own meal. I finished my portion and took over for mom so she could eat.
Your assault on the roast continued from my lap. I was beginning to worry we might run out of meat but your belly soon filled and you wanted down.
For your efforts at the dinner table, mom took you on a victory lap:
If only we could get you to sit in your booster seat or high chair ...
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