Tonight, I made Josie spinach, which she apparently hasn't quite warmed up to despite a semi-warm reception for the saag aloo I made a while back.
Perhaps, the texture is to blame. Or the verdant, grassy flavor. Eh, it's new.
Josie took a tentative bite, opened her mouth and removed the food with her hands. Then, she ran it through the fuzz that has sprouted atop her coconut noggin. It was cute, but it was not eatin'.
In a stroke of brilliance, my husband handed me a secret weapon: a bag of shredded cheese. The bag was on the dining room table because the grown-ups were having black bean chili over rice. (When's pay day? Can I get an amen?)
I put a pinch of shredded cheese on her high chair, which she had painted with spinach, and, of course, she shoved it enthusiastically into her face.
And she didn't care that globs of spinach were going in with it. So, (again brilliantly) my husband suggests mixing more cheese with the rest of the spinach. Brilliant! Brilliant! Brilliant!
We all won.
I love stories that end happily.
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