Saturday, May 06, 2006

Food Junk

Hillbilly Mom has issues this week. Family food issues.

Don't go thinkin' we're all about the junk food here at the mansion.
These people are offered healthy choices. They don't often take
advantage of them. Oh, #1 son will eat salad about once a week,
and he'll eat broccoli if it is blanketed with that wonderful Velveeta
cheese. He'll eat baked chicken with lemon-pepper seasoning. But
most of the time, he turns up his nose and eats junk. Or cereal and
milk. My Hillbilly Husband will eat what's put in front of him. But
sometimes he'll say, "Don't bother with that salad. It's filler."
Precisely. He'll eat vegetables if they're swimming with some bacon.
Most of the time, I end up making 4 different meals. In the summer,
not so much, because I don't mind if the kids won't eat and have
to go hungry at home. I just don't like the thought of them being
hungry at school because they wouldn't eat supper the night before.

We'll begin with the young son. #2, we affectionately call him.
He eats a narrow range of foods. Noodles, mac & cheese,
chicken nuggets, sweet & sour chicken, pizza, bread & butter,
cereal, bananas, apples, Cheetos, and anything from the cookie
family. That makes it difficult to pack a lunch for school. For the
past semester, he has been taking a bread & butter sandwich.

Thursday night, he announced that he wanted JELLY with his
bread & butter. Friday morning, at 4:20 a.m., I could not find
any jelly. We are not jelly-eaters. I DID find an open jar of
peanut butter with jelly stripes in the pantry. It must be...oh...
I don't know...a year old. It looked OK. I dug out some of
the jelly stripes for the sandwich. #2 is still alive and kickin'.

Which brings me to my next issue. My Hillbilly Mama gives the
kids treats. She gave them a can of Pringles. They ate a few.
The can was just sitting on the cutting block, daring me to open
it. I could hear the chips taunting me: "Eat me. Eat me. Eat me."
Or perhaps those were just voices from my traumatic childhood.
Anyhoo, I tried one. It tasted funny. I looked at the bottom of
the can. Use by 08/2005. Thanks, Hillbilly Mama. You really
shouldn't have. It reminded me of the ranch dressing incident.

Friday afternoon, my HMama gave #1 son a box of Sour Skittles.

Hey Mom! These are good until 5/06. That's this month. I wonder
where Grandma got them.

Oh, honey...I'm sure she got them at her favorite store:
Ye Olde Expired Food Shoppe.

Well, the boy thinks I'm funny. My Hillbilly Husband doesn't.
The doctor put him on a diet. He lost 26 pounds. He was doing
really well. Then I noticed some missing cookies, and he said
the banana Moon Pies were looking good. The other night he
called to say he was working late. I fed the kids, and made him
one of his favorite concoctions: beanie weenies. Hey, I pour out
the can juice and season the beans myself! I cut up 4 hot dogs
to go in the can of beans. I left them simmering on the stove,
thinking he would eat some and have the others for lunch, or
the next night's supper. The boys and I went on about our
business, which is computering, GameBoying, and blogging,
and pretty much anything that avoids HH. He is kind of cranky
when he gets home from work.

Later that evening, after the kids were asleep, after HH came
in from mowing our 4-acre front yard, I asked him what he'd
done with the rest of the beans. The pan was soaking in the
sink. I thought for once he had but the leftovers in the fridge.
By the look on his face, I could tell he hadn't.

The rest of the beans? (He does this when he is stalling for time
to think of a good answer.)
Yeah. (I knew I wasn't gonna be seeing any beans.)
I ate all of them.
You ate 4 hot dogs and a whole can of beans?
You left them for me.
So you're not on your diet any more?
Well, if you make that stuff, I will eat it. It's your fault.

I am the all-powerful Hillbilly Mom. Once I weave my spell, it
can't be broken. By leaving a pan of beanie weenies on the stove,
I forced HH to break his diet and shovel down the entire can of
beans. And 4 hot dogs.

Behold. The power of Hillbilly Mom.

And since I am so all-powerful, they will be sorely surprised this
summer when they can not find their junk food favorites. When
I won't drive them to town for fast food. When they are left at
the mercy of fruits and vegetables. And meat, little #2 son! You
will be served meat! You! The child who shouted "Hey! Who
put the meat on my hamburger?" You are in for a rude awakening.
Eat the meal that is served, or go hungry!

I can hear the screams of horror already.


Blogger deadpanann said...

You been spoilin' them youngins! "Eat the meal that is served, or go hungry" was always my momma's motto. Then again, that might've been because we were super poor...

7:15 PM  
Blogger Hillbilly Mom said...

Miss Ann,
Yes, I admit to spoiling my young 'uns.
I'm not as bad as my Hillbilly Mama, who used to FRY A HAMBURGER for my finicky sister to have for BREAKFAST!

OK, my verification 'word' is "douckat".
Mr. K? Mr. K? Are you in da house?

8:38 PM  
Blogger Chickadee said...

You will have to keep us posted on the food changes. I'll be anxious to hear the screams and voices of outrage. LOL. You stick to your guns Hillbilly Momma. I'm rootin' for ya.

My brother-in-law HATES vegetables, he's better now (he'll eat maybe 3 different types of veggies) but apparently his mom couldn't get him to eat veggies while he was growing up.

10:14 PM  
Blogger MrsCoach2U said...

I served Mr.Coach an artichoke about a year into our marriage, he poked it with his fork and demanded to know why I was making him eat a pinecone! He wasn't much of a variety of foods eater either.

9:08 AM  
Blogger Hillbilly Mom said...

My 8-year-old is like that. The only veggie he used to eat was mashed potatoes. But only the flaky kind out of a box. He begged me to get them...the kind he had at daycare.

HA! I've never eaten an artichoke, but at least I know it's not a pine cone.

10:19 PM  
Blogger Redneck Diva said...

Uhhh....I think I might've left a comment about half-eaten rodents on this post accidently. It has nothing to do with your cookin', Hillbilly Mom. I promise.

I know all about them picky eaters. Abby's been that way since birth. In fact, when she was 5 month old, I had tried and tried to give her baby food peas and she kept gagging and retching. The Gerber people say that it takes 10 tries to your child to develop a taste. Well, we were on try 10 and she was still retching. So I called the Gerber Anxious Parent Hotline and told the very kind operator my dilemma. She listened and then very sweetly said, "Honey, did you ever think that maybe she just doesn't like peas?"

8:11 PM  
Blogger Hillbilly Mom said...

Well, you know what they say...It takes a whole baby-food factory to raise a child.

10:49 PM  
Blogger MrsCoach2U said...

So that's why Diva beats me out of the Mother Of The Year Award---she actually uses those hotlines! I never knew you could talk to the Gerber people!

8:52 AM  
Blogger Hillbilly Mom said...

I might need to call the hotline for Ye Olde Expired Food Shoppe. Cause I asked my boy if he wanted me to buy some jelly at Save-A-Lot, and he said, "No. That jelly you put on my sandwich did not taste good." Thank the Gummi Mary, he didn't eat the sandwich. I guess you can't use year-old PB&J. Who knew?

10:42 PM  

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