Our Year of Food: Chicken Soup


No, he didn't eat it. Don't get all excited. What he did do, though, was sit with it in front of him for the whole of dinner without complaining about it. 

This is progress, people.

It was always going to be risky, serving soup. I mean, no one in the whole family except me really likes it. But I was out of ideas for things to do with chicken mince and besides, I, personally, wanted soup. 

I dished it up and had all the plates on the table. The kids came in with that where's mine look in their eyes. 

"Stop!" I said. "Before you say anything, I'm going to tell you what's going to happen tonight. Silencio!"

"We have soup. Bright Eyes, you do not have to eat it. What you do have to do is sit there with it in front of you for five minutes without saying anything about it, good or bad." 

He had a look on his face like I could do that so I continued. 

"If, after five minutes, you haven't complained, you may ask me politely for something else if you would like."

There was silent assent. So we sat, prayed, and ate.

The soup stayed there for the whole meal. There were zero complaints. (Plenty of silent rejoicing from my end of the table though.) 

I tried to push harder. 

"Bright Eyes. Do you think there is any part of that soup you could possibly eat? What about the rice grains?"

"I don't like them with soupy stuff on them," he said. 

"Could you try?" I asked.

"You said all I had to do was sit there with it, so no," he said.

"Fair enough. And you've done a great job. Well done."

I feel pretty happy. No complaining at food he'd normally have a lot to say about. And he even considered possibly eating the rice.

We are moving forward!