She had chosen an all-black ensemble that would’ve made Johnny Cash proud. But rather than diminish her creative spirit, I just go with the flow, allowing her to wear pretty much whatever she wants provided she’s fully clothed with her panties on the inside of her pants.
With all the pieces in place, I set off her alarm, which just happens to be the theme song to “Full House.” It’s a mystery to me. The child could be dead to the world, but when Danny, Michelle, DJ, Stephanie, Uncle Joey and Uncle Jesse appear, she shoots up like the bed’s on fire.
With Jellybean induced in a “Full House” daze, I dressed her and propped her up against a wall of pillows before moving on to the next phase in Operation: Get Ready for School.
“So, what do you want for breakfast?” I ask in a tone I hope doesn’t sound too pleading because, much like dogs and bees, Jellybean can smell fear. “How about those chocolate chip waffles Momma said you liked so much?”
You’d think I’d offered to serve her a beaver and butter bean smoothie from the look she shot me.
“Daddy,” she said, “you know that I don’t like to eat food that’s the same color of the clothes I’m wearing.”
I, in fact, had never heard of this rule and was dumbstruck as to how to respond.
“Uh, well … how about just a regular waffle? Those are a golden brown and you’re not wearing anything that color.”
“Yeah. No thanks,” she said, turning back to the TV, signaling the conversation was over.
I just stood there at a loss over what to do next. Finally she agreed to a “chocolate chewy” on the way to school — basically a granola bar covered in chocolate, but it’s better than nothing.
Feeding Jellybean has become the bane of my existence. I remember my grandmother once had a really finicky cat that wouldn’t eat the expensive food she bought. The vet told her to put the food down and the cat would “either eat it or starve.” I don’t think that’s a good philosophy for parenting, but I’m starting to consider it.
We used to be amazed at what a “good eater” Jellybean was. As a baby, she’d chow down on just about anything that scurried across her plate. Heck, she’d order broccoli at a restaurant even when French friends and mashed potatoes were an option.
‘Course we said the same thing about her willingness to sleep in her own bed — now I’m pretty sure she’s going to sleep with me until her wedding day.
I don’t know how or why she got to be so picky, but I’d have a better chance of force-feeding Kate Moss a McRib than convincing Jellybean to eat something outside of her preferred menu.
Here’s pretty much everything that Jellybean will eat, save for candy because she’ll scarf down anything with a sugar coating: grilled cheese sandwich, chicken nuggets (only from Burger King), GoGurt, fried mozzarella sticks (only from Sonic), plain cheese quesadillas, turkey sandwich, ham sandwich, saltine crackers, Cheez Its, pistachios, spaghetti noodles and butter, shell noodles and butter, and string cheese.
I used to include chocolate chip waffles on that list, but I guess that now depends on what she’s wearing. I bet that’s one problem Uncle Jesse never had.
Contact Brett Buckner at email@example.com.