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Saturday, June 02, 2007

Some Halle, for good measure

*Disclaimer: I have a story to tell about Halle, but it requires quite a bit of extra information. I'm afraid the punch line might be diminished because of all the back story, but I'll forge ahead anyway.

Back Story 1: Halle turned eight about a month or so ago. This is a big deal. She is oh-so-much older and more mature now that she is eight, and not a mere seven. You know how one of your friends or relatives always asks if you feel older on your birthday? Halle actually does feel older.

Back Story 2: A few months ago, Halle and I were having a conversation about all of the foods she doesn't like. We talked about how, when I was a little girl, there were foods I didn't like that I have grown to like in subsequent years. I explained that a person's tastes change as they get older.

Side Note 1: A few of the Foods Halle Does Not Like include hot dogs (I blame Amanda), tomatoes, lettuce (except in salad, go figure), pickles, jelly, honey, onions, green beans, and rice.

Actual Story: Last week I made macaroni and cheese with hot dogs for dinner. Not the finest culinary fare, I know, but it's good and easy. In keeping with the tradition of the past dozen times I've made this meal, I even used the high-end Velveeta shells and cheese instead of the Wal-Mart off-brand. Mmm.

Halle came in the kitchen as I was preparing the meal and asked her customary question, "What's for dinner?" Normally I brace myself for the groaning and the eye-rolling, but not this time. I knew--minus the hot dogs--we had a winner. I was quite surprised, therefore, when I received the customary groan and eye-roll.

"Halle," I calmly and rationally explained, "you can pick out the hot dogs, like you do every other time."

"But mo-o-om," she extended my name into three syllables with more eye-rolling, "I don't like shell macaroni and cheese."

"Halle," I calmly and rationally explained, "shell macaroni and cheese doesn't taste any different than regular. It's only the shape that's different, not the taste. Besides, we had this a couple weeks ago and you liked it just fine then." Quite pleased with my calm, rational defense, and quite sure that I had her, I smugly returned to chopping hot dogs.

Halle was not to be deterred, however. What I obviously had forgotten was that the last time we had shell macaroni and cheese, Halle was seven. She is now eight.

"Mom," Halle calmly and rationally explained, "your tastes change as you get older."

Checkmate.

7 comments:

Anonymous said...

touche! :)
I was so much wiser *when I was young.*
so cute, thanks for sharing, all of em.

Anonymous said...

Wow I'd forgotten how my IQ continued to drop to knuckle dargging level until Joz hit about 21. To encourage you, in the last couple of month, it seems I have been able to stand upright and have discovered fire, according to my child's opinion. I think there is hope for us!

Elizabeth W.

A Marie said...

Talk about your words coming back to bite you. hahahaha. Love it!

Jennie Lynne said...

I laughed so hard, I cried! I sent this post to Dad and Karen and mom sent it to Jane! You are such an awesome story teller...
Can't wait to see you guys!

Jennie Lynne said...

ARE YOU EVER GOING TO POST AFTER PICTURES?????????? I'm still patiently waiting and avidly checking your blog every day...

A Marie said...

^
|
haha

Amanda said...

I'm happy to be turning the world against hot dogs, one person at a time! Now if someone would only inform my daughter of the disgustingness of this vile food...