Full Circle

One of the stories that is told often of my childhood involves my love for butter. My parents used to get so frustrated because they would always find little fingerprints (mine) in the butter. So one day my dad sat me down and let me eat an entire tub. I ate so much that I threw up.

Jed loves ranch dressing. "Branch" as he calls it. He drinks it from the little condiment packages from fast food restraunts. He sucks it off of his carrots & continues to double, triple, etc dip - like it's a Lik-a-maid. Well today, while I was not looking he poured about 1/3 of a cup of thick, homemade ranch dressing on his plate. Huge glob. My first instinct was to take his plate away and send him to get in the bath. But I passed on that one and, instead, gave him a spoon. I told him I wanted him to eat all of it. At first he was loving it. Saying "MMMmmmmm!" and smiling. But then I started having to 'encourage' him to keep eating. "But mom, branch is not for eating!" he started to complain. "That's what I always tell you, but you always eat it anyway, so keep going." After one more spoonful he was begging to go get in the bath (which NEVER happens these days). So I let him. No throw up - at least not yet. But he did complain that his stomach didn't feel very good. "Too much ranch, huh?" I asked him. "Yeah" he said with his head hung low.

Hopefully we are done with the ranch mustaches. At least for a while.

Thanks for the 'parenting tip', Dad!