“Jackson’s a vetter-narian, Mom. Cause he eats no meat.”

We just wrapped dinner, which means we also ended tonight’s cooking lesson. Jeremy, entirely on his own, concocted a “dip” in which to dip his chicken tenders (which were marinated in buttermilk, crusted with corn tortilla chips and baked, for your information). In one bowl he mixed melted cheddar cheese, sour cream, bacon bites and Italian-style bread crumbs (really?). Then, “because there’s enough salt in there with the cheese,” he added freshly ground pepper. My little sous chef was proud.

As I dredged the chicken in crushed tortilla chips, Jeremy pondered the predicament of an animal lover like himself eating, ahem, animals.

“Mom, I don’t fink I can eat this chicken,” he says, sorrowful and distraught.

“Why not?”

“Because chicken comes from Chickens and I’m sad that they died to be food.”

I empathized by telling him how I was a vegetarian for 11 years, and it was only AFTER we adopted him that I started eating poultry. Then, it was only AFTER we moved to Texas that I started eating beef. Before Texas, I had not had a burger or steak since I was 14 years old.

Bug-eyed, he was shocked that I lived such a wild life. He asked me to repeat the word – vegetarian – which he quickly translated into “veterinarian,” as most kids do. As he continued to ponder this radical concept, he asked me if he could be a vegetarian.

“Sure, I don’t mind if you want to be a vegetarian, but that means you’d have to eat A LOT more vegetables and no more bacon or sausage balls.”

Well, that settled it. The vegetarian idea was out the door as a definite impossibility, even after I told him that Aunt Becky lives a bacon-free life. It didn’t matter, because a life without sausage balls is no life at all.

Over dinner, when I force-fed Jackson a nickel-size piece of chicken that he choked down and then nearly passed out from the trauma, Jeremy announced, “Jackson’s a vetter-narian, Mom. Cause he eats no meat.”

It’s true that Jackson could live on noodles and Vanilla Wafers indefinitely, that he’s eaten Amish Friendship Bread with a glass of milk every morning for the past three years, and if there’s even a smidgen of meat on his dinner plate, then I’ve clearly chosen TORTURE over NOURISHMENT.

Would you like a side of carbs with your carbs, Jackson? Or maybe a starch?

As I said to my sister on the phone the other day, I’m content to feed Jack natural applesauce, organic yogurt, whole grain bread and block cheese every day while we wait for the storm to pass. (I know it’s coming. I have hope.) I’ll hide pureed veggies in a few dishes every now and then, but otherwise, Jackson’s diet is one monotonous meal after another. My defense is that even though his diet isn’t diverse, it’s free of Happy Meals, freezer re-heats, and refined sugar.

So while he’s refusing meat, even in the tiniest amounts, I’m doing what I believe is best for him for now. Hopefully he’ll develop an interest in food like Jeremy has, which has only broadened his interest in more ingredients and new foods.

Or maybe I’ll bribe him. After all, Jeremy ate a bite of avocado after I offered him a dollar. Whatever works, people.

1 Comment

  1. Fascinating how diff. textures make for a great choice vs. horrible… but also, what on earth causes someone to be so adamantly against all meat? How is that at all similar to no veggies b/c of perceived sensory indicators??Very interesting… very funny…and very coool that *someone* actually ate avocado!

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