I can’t seem to convince our family to enjoy curry (aside from our second born), but we do have a varied and mildly adventurous menu. Our boys enjoy shrimp and seafood, olives, and I do not shy away from adding a little extra heat to the main dish. We regularly try new recipes, and some have become favourites. Gnocchi with pesto is always popular with our crew.
A few years ago our toddler was quietly finishing his lunch, content in his highchair. He was always a jolly little guy, so when I heard a small voice say, “Uh, oh” I turned quickly to see what was wrong. He held up a chubby little hand and repeated, “Uh, oh.”
Poor little guy. He got pesto on his hand.
I grabbed a cloth and wiped his hands and fingers. Then I carried on with folding laundry and he continued his lunch. Or so I thought.
A moment later, “Uh, oh,” and the chubby pesto-covered hand. I wiped it off again.
Sheesh, he’s really make a mess of it today.
Laundry-folding and lunch-eating ensued again.
Two seconds later he held up his hand and beckoned for help.
Where is all this pesto coming from? Poor little guy keeps getting in on himse–wait a minute. I didn’t serve him pesto today. Where is all this pesto coming from? It’s not pesto. IT IS NOT PESTO.
When was burning a wash cloth your only real option?