To my amazement, the boys have just polished off a bowl of home-made Scotch broth (that's a handful of dried pulses, soaked, then cooked in chicken stock with carrot, onion, celery, garlic and herbs), and declared it delicious. They've decided they must have consumed at least three helpings of their "five a day" fruit and veg by now.
I was dumbfounded. I haven't seen a child eat vegetable soup for at least thirteen years! That's when I last put it in front of Cello-Kid before I admitted defeat.
SuperSpouse's old Aunt May would have been so happy to see the day. For years, she'd demand, "Isn't that boy eating vegetable soup yet? Why, he used to eat my vegetable soup when he was still a baby!" And indeed he did. It was just as he moved towards toddlerdom that Cello-Kid clamped his lips firmly shut and refused anything other than dairy or carbohydrates. We consulted the health visitors and doctors, but no-one seemed particularly bothered, so eventually we relaxed, and exclaimed with amazement as the childminder patiently introduced fishfingers, burgers and sausages into his diet. Admittedly, things have got a lot better since his pre-school days. He's now a big fourteen-year old, and - as you see - eats just about anything put in front of him.
If anyone reading this blog has a fussy eater in their family, then please - be reassured. I'm sure there's a Biblical saying about "everything cometh to him who waits." And in time, kids learn to eat normal food. See?!
Image from Scottishrecipes.co.uk, with thanks. (There's a recipe there, if you're interested.)