Parents (USA)

A REFORMED PICKY EATER

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For most of his life, my son, George, was as picky an eater as they come. But he turned the corner a couple of years ago, and ever since, this kiddo—now 8—has been making up for lost time, happily wolfing down rare steaks and pickled herring. (Can you tell how smug I’ve become?) The other day, I overheard George on Facetime with his friend Bowen, who’s still, ahem, pretty selective about his diet. (Think all carbs, all the time.) Given that the two are so simpatico in every other area, George has struggled to make sense of this divide. “Bro, bro,” I listened to George say. “You gotta stop being such a picky eater. What if you’re, like, 35 and go to a fancy restaurant and say, ‘Can I please get some buttered bread?’ They’re gonna be like, ‘No, dude, we don’t have it.’” Alas, Bowen was unswayed, and I stood in the kitchen—once the scene of many a food war—stifling my giggles. Beware the zeal of a convert, especially one who’s in second grade. —Ingela Ratledge, mom of two in Westport, Connecticu­t

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