Peyton's breakfast, for weeks & weeks now, has been 2 hot dogs (no bun), cut into slices, served with ketchup for dipping. It's the first thing he asks for when he wakes up and I very rarely can convince him to have something else. Toast? NO! Cereal? NO! Eggs? NO! Fruit? NO! He only wants hot dogs. It's kind of weird. I especially don't get the ketchup thing. I think ketchup is absolutely vile. I didn't even like it when I was a kid and that's when you're supposed to like the stuff. I've always been more of a mustard kind of person. I tasted a tiny bit a couple of weeks ago to see if my aversion still stood. And, yep! It sure does. I had barely touched it to my tongue, when it caused my stomach to turn, my jaw to clench up and then I gagged. Ketchup is nasty stuff.
In other food news, did you feel the world shift dramatically about a week ago? Like it was being turned upside down. Did you hear a gut-wrenching, horrible scream? The sound of ulitmate suffering. Well, that was me on the day that Avery told me she, in fact, does NOT like melted cheese on food. WHAAAAAAT!? How can a child who came from my womb (which is most likely lined with cheese because I love it so much) not like the gooey, comforting, wonderful goodness that is melted cheese!? It makes no sense to me. At all.
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