Saturday, January 31, 2009

Top Chef Dinner

We ate at Absinthe tonight. Jamie from Top Chef is the executive chef. I am a Top Chef fan. I can't help myself. I was so, so sad it was not better. French onion soup was sweet. Romaine salad was over dressed and too fishy even after taking the anchovies off the top. We sent the salads back. The wild mushroom risotto was hot, saucy, smooth and tasty though.
Anyway, M. was slightly out of sorts. She started the croup cough last night and oh lordy does that stress me out. She started to nod off eating french fries which took me off guard. I took her to the bathroom to wake her up and she seemed to snap back into form. We sit down and she has something to say.

"Mommy, did you know my belly has four buckets?"

"No, I did not"

"Yes. Each bucket is in my belly and has room for food! One bucket for breakfast. One bucket for crap food, One bucket for lunch and One bucket for dessert. They are all in my belly!"

"Wow" I say.

The crap food category may seem extreme. Most likely it is. I got D. a box of donuts for his birthday breakfast. He loooves donuts. I never buy them. But for a special birthday breakfast I made an exception. M. took one look at the box, drew a long breath in and said "Do I get to eat crap food for breakfast like Daddy?" Yes, I say. "You mean, I don't have to eat my growing food breakfast, Mommy?" No, you don't I say. Growing food is all things vegetable, protein, fruit and fiber. We talk a lot about how the food we eat can make our bodies get strong, grow and run fast. I try to stick to the mantra growing food first, crap food second.

Dinner is over, we go outside to catch a cab and M. decides to hug the big green garbage can in front of the restaurant as we scan the street for cabs. Her hug turns into a kiss and all of a sudden her mouth is all over the garbage can. I yell. At her. She jumps and I recoil, lamenting on how much damage I have done to her from my own germ phobia this instance and since she was born. It gives me a stomach ache thinking about it. Tremendous guilt. Awful guilt. Everyday I try to do better. Everyday I will try to better, I say to myself. I hug her and let her hail us a cab.

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