Again?

#1 has perfected the art form of throwing up in his mouth.

Let me start from the beginning.

I'm on a new health kick b/c I'd like to end my life as Two Ton Tilly.

In order to do that everyone in the family has to change the way they eat b/c I'm weak, I have a problem, and I can not control myself.

So, in order to make things more interesting I've been trying to add some new vegetable entrees to our palette. Trying to spice things up, make dining exciting.

Apparently, they don't like exciting.

The eggplant was a bust, the squash was rejected, and the zucchini... well the zucchini is what led to throwing up in the mouth.

I ask them (OK force them) to at least try everything I put on their plates because they can't know if they don try it, yada, yada, yada. Just some leftover parenting advice from my days with Mimi and Papa.

As soon as I put the zucchini on his plate and slid it across the counter, the protesting, negotiating, begging, and crying (in that order) ensued.

I held my ground (another new technique I'm trying). I did not give in to the pressure. I even forced some into Hubby to make him (the resident picky eater) a roll model. I rolled out the chocolate chip cookie dessert in order to use it as a bribe.

And victory was mine, or so I thought.

He agreed to try one piece. He popped it in and began to chew.

I immediately noticed something was awry when the eyes began to water.

And then the gagging started and I watched as his cheeks quickly began to look like this.

For some reason he decided to run in place instead of run to the bathroom. #2 began screaming in an angry fit of disgust (he hates when people barf), #3 began to copy #2 (bad, bad, bad) and Hubby began to run in place himself fighting back his reactive barf response.

WTH? Must I do everything? I swear, these people are ridiculous. I efficiently ushered #1 to the bathroom where he proceeded to puke his 7 year old brains out for the next five minutes.

My life has gone to a strange place wherein I can be sober and still thoroughly enjoy my dinner (my biscuits, for the record, are DOPE!) while listening to someone call Earl in the nearby restroom.

Even stranger is the fact that he barfed, he flushed, and he came back to the table and proceeded to eat the remaining parts of his dinner. Who does that? Didn't even want to rinse the mouth out a bit, have some water, take a break? Nothing?

All righty then.

The rest of the meal went off without a hitch.

I did not require #2 to eat the zucchini. #3, the human garbage disposal, ate all of the remaining zucchini. And #1 vowed to never eat zucchini again.

And, just so you know, the zucchini was NASTY!