I vividly remember the day I made the connection between the cute little animals I adored and what was being served to me on a plate. It was not a pleasant revelation, to say the least. I still suppress visions of Wilbur while dining on pork chops and have never been able to get myself to devour a sweet little lamb.
Last year, while eating at my favorite Spanish tapas restaurant, Lily insisted on trying my roasted duck. When I told her what she was eating she was unfazed and proceeded to consume the entire dish. I was ecstatic– she’s such a picky eater and it’s always thrilling to have her try and like something new.
Later that week, we happily discovered a little family of ducks on the
pond our house backs to. We’d feed them and watch them waddle and swim around. They were so cute. I dreaded the connection. Would Lily ever touch duck again once she realized they were her sweet little neighbors? What about chicken? Baby chicks are damn cute, too. Was I doomed to life with a three year old vegetarian?
Instead, my little carnivore proclaimed, “The ducks are so cute, and they’re so yummy!” And she’s been eating our flying friends ever since. Phew.