Dancing Without Rhythm

So, I remember as a child, grapefruits being bitter and disgusting and a definite adult food.

When I was in my early 20's someone told me that cold sores in your mouth could be taken care of by drinking unsweetened grapefruit juice. It worked like a charm, but the cure was not pleasant at all for me.

About 6 or 7 years later J was in charge of bringing drinks to one of his class activities and he returned with his large gallon of grapefruit juice, untouched. He couldn't believe no one wanted any. I hadn't seen what drink he had selected beforehand, so I laughed and laughed that he actually thought he was treating people by bringing grapefruit juice. He still stands by his belief that grapefruit juice was the best choice. I still laugh about it.

When I'm pregnant I tend to whale on grapefruits. I'd whale on oranges, but I can't handle a bad orange and it's not worth the risk. So, having grapefruits on hand is a treat indeed. And I think for once it's something I can sit down and eat without little mouths suddenly appearing out of nowhere, opened wide like I'm some kind of full service mother bird or something.

I was wrong. My kids act like grapefruits are the be all end all of the fruit kingdom. I suspect it's because they get it spoon fed to them like the royalty that they are. But I keep watching their faces every time I give them some, waiting for some sign that they are faking and they really don't like them. They love grapefruit. And it annoys my immensely. I mean, there's only like 13-14 little sections of delectable juiciness for me and my little fetus. And I have to share. I try to say no. But the wailing that ensues is more than I can handle. Don't get me wrong, I can ignore a fit with the best of them. But the image of my 23 pound 2 year old writhing on the floor red faced, tears streaming, all for the want of a bit of grapefruit---juxtaposed to her hulking mother with beady, darting eyes, gorging herself, refusing her offspring food---is more than I can handle. So I give in.

Well, today I sat down and the whole scene started before I had even sliced the darn fruit. Avee leaped from her booster seat, scrambled over her half finished yogurt and lunged for my grapefruit spoon. (Those things are SO COOL). Ben's friend his here and he was intrigued by Avee's response, and having never tasted a grapefruit, asked for a bite. I almost didn't do it. But, the images started flooding my mind and I decided I could share one bite. I stared at his face, anticipating the wrinkling up nose to express distaste for the putrid fruit. Instead his eyebrows shoot up and he exclaims, "Mmm, that's kinda yummy!"

I didn't care. I hunkered down and gorged anyway. It's my blessed grapefruit.

Well, you should also know that one of my biggest peeves is when children don't ask directly for something and just hint around. Every kid does it---but it bugs me. And pretty much as a rule, I insist on direct questions before I will respond. My kids haven't hit that stage yet, but I'm sure they will.

So, this little guy wants more, I've decided I'm not sharing, and he has a habit of only speaking in hint-language. So he continues, "Mmmm, that grapefruit sure is delicious." And I ignore. I decide, while I'm hogging all those little wedges of fruity goodness, I'll see how many times he'll hint at me like this.

13.

THIRTEEN TIMES he said it. There were 13 wedges in each of my grapefruit halves. That means, since I shared and had at least two wedges down before he started, I heard this statement more than every other bite. He got desperate toward the end and said, "Ben, don't you want another bite?" Ben didn't, but he's clueless to that advanced art of peer manipulation and did just what his friend wanted him to and asked for a bite. I had no problem denying my yogurt faced boy something he didn't really want.

You might think I'm mean. I kind of am. You may wonder why I didn't just get the kid his own grapefruit---it was the last one. And did you know those things are $1.28 each if you don't buy them in a bag and risk getting some bad ones? And you may not ever want me watching your children, and well---you're probably right again. Except Amy and Rebecca, I'll give your kids all the grapefruits they want. For a small fee.

Posted by Angela on Thursday, March 22, 2007 at 3/22/2007 | Permalink