The Robert dialogues

On a recent night Robert asked why Chik Fil A uses cows in its ads.

I told him, well, the cows want you to eat more chicken instead of eating cow.

That's what Mom said!

That's because she's right. You eat cow, you know.

I do?

You do. What comes from a cow?

Dairy.

That's true, yes. What does the meat of a cow get made into?

Milk?

No silly. Steak comes from cows.

Elizabeth eats cow!

Hamburgers come from cows.

Ohhhhhhhhh

You eat pig, too

No, Elizabeth eats pig. She loves ham.

That's true, ham comes from pigs. But so does bacon, and you love bacon.

Dad, I only eat bacon once a day!

Once a day? Don't you mean more like once a month?

Once a day when mom puts it on my plate.

And so does pork chops. What other animals do we eat?

Swan?

Hmm, no, people eat duck and goose but I've never heard of anyone eating swan. You've eaten lamb.

Really?

Yes, at Christmas, that was lamb.

You told Elizabeth it was steak!

That's true, we did. Elizabeth loved the lamb. She wants us to get more.

Dad, did you know, some people eat dog.

That's true -- I don't know anyone who eats dog, though. Some people eat horse, too. Have you ever had fish?

Yes, when you and me and Elizabeth went to visit Nonna and Da this summer, we had fish. It was after you went home.

Oh really? What kind of fish?

I don't remember.

One time when Nonna came out here to visit us, I made salmon on the grill. Salmon is fish.

I know that, dad.

Sunday dinner

I may have mentioned, or at least some of you may know, that I've tried to make Sunday dinner a bit of a big deal.

On Sundays, Cate leaves for work at noon. It's the only extended period of time where I'm at home consistently and the kids are awake. (Elizabeth, sitting next to me, nods.) So while we don't always make a huge production out of Sunday dinner, sometimes the kids and I will go shopping specifically with that night's dinner in mind, picking things out we'd like to try and that Elizabeth would like to help cook.

This photo is a no-bake chocolate cheesecake Elizabeth made last Sunday. Seriously, she basically made this entirely by herself, aside from the blending.

Tonight, it was a Chicken with Couscous recipe that we found on Taste of Home's Web site. We didn't spend nearly as much time researching tonight as we sometimes do, and had to make do with ingredients on hand, but we basically had it all. The only concession was that we didn't have any broccoli florets on hand, so we defrosted the long-dormant ice block of snap peas that was in the freezer. And believe it or not, that actually worked.

While Elizabeth was making the sauce that gets poured over the chicken, I was pounding it between sheets of wax paper with my fist. (No mallet or tenderizing hammer thingy.) I reserved some of the couscous without tomatoes for Elizabeth.

I just said to Elizabeth, "I'm so glad you like couscous." She replied: "I don't like couscous. I looooooooooooove couscous."

Robert is loving the chicken -- some nights he's not interested in eating seconds, or even finishing his firsts, but tonight he asked for more.

Good enough.

Now we just need to work on Colleen. Whenever there is bread (at home) or french fries (on the road) on the table, she refuses to eat anything else. "Breaaaaad?" she pleads.

I gave her one piece so she wouldn't starve. But that's it. She hasn't yet begun to understand the causal relationship between eating her food and getting more bread. Or she understands it but refuses to play along. So she had a piece of bread, some orange juice, lettuce, cucumbers and carrots for dinner.

The best part is, I'll have leftovers to take to work at least one day this week.

While I was putting the leftovers away, however, a strange thing happened. I made one more attempt at it, telling her, "People who eat chicken get more bread." And Colleen went to her plate, picked up the long-since cold slice of chicken, and ate it.

Finally.

So she got her second piece of bread. We'll see if she understands the next time around. And Cate, that's why you have so little bread left over.

Huh?

"I think you should get train tracks so you can send me e-mail."
-- Robert, 12:52 a.m.

Huh? I thought the Internet was a set of tubes!
Yeah, that never gets old!