(And she smacks her forehead!)

Aidan, age 8, and Ty, age 6,  came flying through the door while I was preparing tonight’s deja food masterpiece. Aidan, tightly grasping two cups with the open ends pushed together yelled, “Ty just had the BEST idea for dessert tonight, Mom. Tell her Ty!”

At this point I expected them to show me some wild strawberries from the driveway.

Ty exuberantly shouted, “Roast crickets dipped in dark chocolate. I would’ve said milk chocolate, but I know you like dark chocolate better, Mom.”

Well, yes, but, ummmm… Where to go with this one?

He opened up the cups and, sure enough, showed me 4 large crickets he had “chose ’cause they looked good and meaty.”

I feel the need to interrupt myself here to make clear that we don’t eat insects around these parts. Food prices are high, but they’re not that high.

I tried to take the path of least resistance and explain that I wasn’t prepared to roast crickets tonight and I had dinner all ready to go. We just wouldn’t have time. It worked. Ty was morose, but he took the crickets out the side door and released the things. He came back in the house, washed his hands, took one look at my prepared dinner and promptly refused to eat.

Another interruption:  The kid who wanted roasted crickets with dark (or milk) chocolate refused a meal comprised of things he had loved the day before. 

I tried to strong-arm him. “Eat your dinner!” Nope.

I tried to coax him. “Hey! Your brothers are eating it and they seem to like it!” Nothing doing.

I tried reasoning with him. “You know, this food is all stuff you liked just yesterday. Not only that, but it is chock-a-block with nutrients and vitamins that you need in order to get big enough to bully your brothers. You do want that, don’t you?” Negatory.

I cannot believe what came out of my mouth next. I actually clamped my hand over my own mouth as soon as I heard myself say it. 

“If you eat it I’ll roast you some crickets tomorrow night.”

Argh! What did I just do? He picked up the bowl and shoveled the stuff into his mouth with a delighted look. He ate his dinner in record time and proceeded to regale me with cricket nutritional information while I tried to choke back mine. 

“Crickets are full of protein, Mom.”

“I think they’re probably good with calcium, too, Mom. Not sure, though, but they ought to be crunchy!”

Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.

That’s what I get for trying to negotiate over the dinner table. 

Whimper.