Like Father, Like Daughter

Nobody else seems to appreciate my daughter’s works of art nearly as much as I do (totally understandable) so I promise not to post them incessantly. I do want to share this gem.

The assignment was to make a “balloon person” doing your favorite activity. Most of her classmates made “people” who were playing or riding a bike or seeing a movie… Lily’s is eating at a Chinese Restaurant. (I’m not sure why the other dining guests are giant penises, but that’s another issue for another time.)

Let me explain: My husband loves Chinese food. Not like a normal person does, but like a crazy person. He could literally (and I do mean literally) eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Every day. It’s a problem. He would rather eat it than any gourmet, 4 star cuisine. For a foodie like me, this is tough to deal to take. The other problem is the caliber of restaurant that he will dine at or order in from. Closed down by the board of health? Fine! Buffet with the grubbiest customers ever? OK! Grease covered, highly questionable, dark meat chicken? Bring it on! After 12 years, the smell of sesame chicken makes me gag, and I am totally unable to eat even the finest Chinese food.

Thankfully for both of us, he now has a new dining companion in Lily. They have dates at the buffet at least once a week. I have to hold my nose when Lily comes running in to hug me covered in sweet sauce. While I am thankful that I am now off the hook as a guest, I am resentful that this trait has been passed on to a new generation. Most meals I present are followed by “I don’t want this, I want Chineeese food!” (And I mean Jeff too, not just the child.)

Thankfully, Ben has not seemed to inherit this gene, so maybe there’s hope for my boys. Just once it would be nice to make a meal that is deemed preferable to Hunan Express.