Though he is usually out the door at 6:20 AM (ouch) while my stepdaughter and I still have a good 90 minutes of snoozing time left, last week my husband was home at breakfast time. So I slept an extra fifteen minutes. When yawned my way into the kitchen, I saw my stepdaughter sitting there looking at the piece of cinnamon toast in front of her.
"Why aren’t you eating?" I asked.
No answer.
I looked at the bread. It was unbuttered. I touched it. It was cold.
"Hmm. You’ve got some old toast there. I’m not sure if even butter can save it now."
But I tried. I slathered soft butter on top and it just sat there; a layer of butter on top of cold toast. As unfriendly as oil and water.
"How long ago did you make this toast?" I asked her.
A deep voice came from the other room, "I toasted it like 30 minutes ago."
She looked at me, wide-eyed. Ah. Daddy was home so he made the toast. A break from the usual routine where my stepdaughter makes her own breakfast.
"You made this toast half and hour ago?" I responded to the voice, "Then let it sit? It’s basically a Zwieback cookie now; you want her to teethe on it?"
She took it to her mouth and gave it the old fourth-grade try. "You want me to make you a new one?" I asked.
"Nope, I’ll eat it."
And damn if the child didn’t eat the whole thick-sliced piece of dried out toast, cold butter on top. Halfway through she asked if she could have a glass of water to help it go down.
"You sure you don’t want some milk?" I asked.
"No, it’s too thick. I need something thinner to really push it down. Water is fine."
So I poured the child a water, myself a coffee and watch her work through this scratchy, unfriendly toast.
"Why don’t you just let me make you another slice?" I asked.
"Because Daddy made it." An answer I couldn’t argue with. And a response that helps explain some strange meals that get eaten by a pretty picky eater when I’m not doing the cooking.
Allison Fishman is the host of Yahoo’s Blue Ribbon Hunter and author of You Can Trust A Skinny Cook.For delicious humor & recipes, visit allisonfishman.com or follow @allisonfishman on Twitter.