the picky eater
the journal of Michael Werneburg
twenty-eight years and a million words
Tokyo, 2008.12.11
The boy's suddenly become a picky eater. Every night, his mother makes him two types of baby food from scratch. Normally he eats her food the same way I do. In big happy mouthfuls.
But all of a sudden that has changed. Tonight he simply refused to eat past the first three spoonfuls. All along it's been one of my pleasures to feed him in the evenings when I can, but now it's a struggle to get him to eat anything, and the whole event is a bit disappointing. As is the waste of the fine food his mother's made.
Mari says that she's read that this is not an uncommon phase. I hope it's brief. First he stopped with the infectious grins, now he's not enjoying food. An ominous trend. Dum dum dum!