When my 12-year-old son gets home from school, we always have a little chat about his day. As he gets older, those chats seem to get shorter, sprinkled with generous helpings of “nothing much” or “same as yesterday”, but I usually wrangle out the details about the social studies test, or the funny thing his science teacher said, or any cafeteria antics. When we get to that part, I always ask what he ate for lunch that day. I normally expect to hear his standard menu of tater tots (‘potatoes are a vegetable, mom!’) and a carton of milk. At a lanky 85 lbs., I always encourage him to eat more at lunch, citing that he needs the energy to finish out the rest of the school day.
Apparently, he was listening. Today’s menu went something like this:
Him: For lunch I had. . .
and a taco;
two fudge chip cookies,
and some green beans (!?!?!);
and some milk.
Me: Wow – you ate all that?
Him: Well, I couldn’t finish the pretzel.
Me: What. . .
no tater tots?
Him: Mom. Nobody eats tater tots anymore. Are we done now? I’m hungry – can I have a snack? And when’s dinner?
Snarky attitude? Appetite spike? No more tater tots?!?! The advance team has sent me intel about this development: looks like Captain Puberty has reported for duty – and he doesn’t eat Crispy Crowns.
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