Reverse the curse! and other foodstuffs

So because I blogged about Miss M's fusspot tendencies of the past few days, she proceeded to eat the most normal dinner, with absolutely no coaxing, I've seen in a while: chicken, rice, steamed zucchini & carrots, followed up by the rest of the red grapes we had in the house. Seriously, we go through fruit so fast you'd think there were five people living here, not two adults and a toddler. We're a 12 banana-a-week family, and I have one once every three to four weeks, usually as part of a peanut-butter-and-banana-on-toast.

Then this morning she "helped" me to make banana-oatmeal pancakes, then ate three of them, several spoonfuls of vanilla yogurt, and an entire kiwi. I had to physically restrain her from snagging another pancake from my plate as I tried to eat breakfast myself.

If any of the six (or so?) people who read this blog don't already keep up with A Little Pregnant, there is a half a post about Spam*...as if that weren't priceless enough, the comments about people's childhood food memories are hysterical (if a little bit gross). As my mom, who clearly remembers feeding me peanut butter on toast when I was way under a year old, says: "It's a miracle we didn't kill you." And we never had Spam! Or anything remotely close.

*Extra props to Julie for the Charlotte's Web reference. This was absolutely my favorite childhood book, and definitely on my "Top 5" list of all time. On a vaguely related note, whenever I read a memoir piece by Roger Angell in the New Yorker, I am slightly weirded out. E.B. White was his stepdad! He called him Andy! I think in my head E.B. White is such a mythic figure that it is difficult to process that he had a real life (in Maine!) and a family. Not that I don't enjoy Angell's writing, just I think I prefer his pieces about baseball. I'd rather leave E.B. White as "the man behind the curtain."