Das It?

Last night, I was wiped out. It'd been a long day. Work in the morning, WALKING home from work in the midday heat, an errand that involved a long drive in the afternoon with all three kids, and then coming home and trying to save CPS a trip to my house by picking up a bit. Dinner time? Fuggetaboutit.

My left hand wrestled with my right hand to put down the phone before I dialed the seventh "4", and I decided to fix something myself. I cooked up some brown rice, lima beans and sweet corn and mixed them all together in a dish I like to call, "It'll Make a Poop."

When I put it on the table for the kids in individual bowls and big spoons and tall glasses of milk, my youngest (barely four) says, "Das it, Mommy? One fing?"

This is the question she asks at every meal. Lunch:

"Das it, Mommy? Two fings?"

"Yep, two things." (PB&J, applesauce)

"Das not enough."

"Just eat."

Dinner:

"Das it? Jus free fings?"

"Yep, three things." (Grilled chicken, broccoli, rice)

"Das not enough."

"Just eat."

It is enough. It is. I know it is. It's more than enough. Because even though every day I make PB&J's for my kids for lunch, that's three items right there. Bread, peanut butter, jelly. And then add a fruit and sometimes a carb like goldfish or pretzels, and you're up to five things, and then milk or juice -- six different things in one meal! And every day is a plethora of choices, a cornucopia of culinary diversity.

When my kid says, "Das it?" to a healthy, balanced meal with ample leftovers, and I joke about its lack of appeal, I know it's time for Pick Five. I know that I can't possibly appreciate the ridiculous variety of food that is readily available, until I take it away.

(Don't worry. My kids will eat the same "Das It?" meals they always eat. This experiment is not family-inflicted, just self.)