So, we’ve had some friends staying. That’s the reason I’ve been a bit quieter than usual. I haven’t been washed away or deprived of electricity and fresh water, although thanks for the kind enquiries. All is well, down here by the river.
Anyway, these friends – they have a little boy, quite a bit younger than ours. And it got me thinking. In the rest of the animal kingdom it’s the young that feed on half chewed food regurgitated by their parents. Whereas among humans, it seems to be the other way round.
Did you ever imagine, those of you with kids, that your breakfast would one day consist of spat-out fish fingers?
Bennett said,
August 2, 2007 at 3:36 pm
Ohhh Rivergirlie you’ve broken the magic.
You’ve just pushed me deep in the pit of deception, both as a childless and French woman:
As a future mother I imagine children feasting on baguette smeared with butter and jam and hot cocoa (my husband was stupified to hear this recently, he thought this to be typical of grand-parents, he’s a cereal maniac)
And if I am to imagine an English breakfast I can’t help dreaming that the bacon and eggs would alternate with :
scones and clotted cream
French toast
crumpets
buns
shortbread, trifle, cucumber sandwiches…
As a teenager I used to spend a month a year in Surrey and the mother, very British in many ways, had this odd understanding that breakfast, like the other meals of the day, should come in various forms, and she would prepare all the items cited above.
I still can’t help dreaming of England as a breakfast heaven…
But you’ve broken it with your regurgitated fried frozen breaded rectangular fish.
I’ll go and gorge myself on this blog http://londonreviewofbreakfasts.blogspot.com/ try and find some comfort.
rivergirlie said,
August 2, 2007 at 3:59 pm
oh dear, bennett! i’m so terribly sorry. (note to self – do not disabuse bennett ever again) my rosy cheeked angels, of course, break their fast with the finest of provender – porridge, pancakes, organic bacon, poached free-range eggs on wholemeal, home-made marmalade, unsalted butter on crumpets and the like. it’s these terrible, terrible guests … and they’re from italy, so i think that explains it all!
(feeling any better?)
cronznet said,
August 2, 2007 at 4:28 pm
This is so hilariously true! My sister would never share her food or drink with nor eat after a child, but I have no qualms about it. I delude myself that it saves money as well as forests and whales to do so.
I also have fond memories of my Brit breakfasts which for me always began with stout black tea infused with sugar.
Bennett said,
August 2, 2007 at 4:35 pm
Well you know… as my fellow teachers kept on telling me when I was living in Limavady (Northern Ireland) and frowned sadly on THEE daily dish at the canteen – chips with beans in tomato sauce on top and as an option grated cheddar on top of the top of the beans…
“you French people are so obsessed about food, a bit pathetic really…”
but thank god you saved the day, your regurgitated-foud-eaters-guests are not English, I can still dream of England as the peak of breakfast snobbery again.
Phhheeewwww, that was close!
fluttercrafts said,
August 2, 2007 at 6:18 pm
*hurl*
Alpha Dogma, Gourmand said,
August 2, 2007 at 7:35 pm
So I know that us mommy-blogger types aspire to be inclusive and open-minded, but FUCK THAT. Gross! Fish fingers are nasty the first time around, I doubt they improve when you get them pre-chewed.
LawyerMama said,
August 3, 2007 at 6:55 pm
Ick. Ick. Ick. While my kids do enjoy fish fingers (hangs head in shame), I won’t eat them. Chicken nuggets on the other hand, well….
Staci said,
August 4, 2007 at 7:15 am
I eat after my kids too. But my husband refuses.
Mangonel said,
August 5, 2007 at 2:28 am
Jane Asher keeps a squeezy bottle of washing up liquid handy to squirt all over her children’s leftovers, to stop her from eating the stuff. OBVIOUSLY, when the leftovers consist of regurgitated fish fingers, you can see why. Obviously.
And whatever happened to ‘Eat everything on your plate or you don’t get puddng’?
I guess in some circles fish fingers with washing-up liquid sauce might just be pudding.
Brom said,
August 5, 2007 at 7:27 pm
I like to think that I’m a flexible and responsible parent. However, once food has gone near a kid that’s it, it’s his/hers, the cat’s or the bin’s. Pur moi – no ta.
Moobs said,
August 6, 2007 at 1:53 pm
NOOOOOOOO. I’m going to have to go eat some Venison and Pate de Foie Gras to erase that image from my head.
emma said,
August 6, 2007 at 5:20 pm
Ha ha, so true. Pre giving birth, I never believed I would ever eat the amount of disgusting leftovers that I do or their regurgitated pizza for breakfast. I also never believed I’d spit on a tissue and wipe my daughters’ faces.
La-Que-Sabe said,
August 7, 2007 at 1:09 pm
Personally, I handed over my dignity when pregnant and have yet to reclaim it. I draw the line at those little tony pots of yoghurt though. Don’t know why.
To be fair, I can’t say I’ve ever ingested pre-chewed food from my kids but I have been known to dine exclusively on breakfast/lunch/dinner that they didn’t finish.
rivergirlie said,
August 8, 2007 at 4:52 pm
well you’ve fallen neatly into two camps – the dainty fastidious types and the greedy pragmatists. i now know which of you i could safely go camping with (should such a thing arise).
cronz british brekkie is the best, isn’t it? that and afternoon tea – just don’t ever have lunch or supper here without a catering pack of antacids to hand.
bennett i’m glad to have helped preserve your illusions!
flutter sorry to have ruined you appetite.
alph come oooonnnn – fishfinger sarnie are one of life’s great pleasures. a good friend of mine has them for breakfast on her birthday each year, as a special treat (must be with a squeeze of lemon and some black pepper, apparently)
lm you’re a mad modern parent! go on – fess up.
staci i call it tidying up – and children’s food is so much nicer than what humans eat … possibly not once chewed up and spat out though.
mango jane asher is a goddess, i tell you.
brom not even a chip? you’re stronger than me, then … but there again, most people are.
moobs you’re far too grand for this blog, i fear. i shall have to clean up my act, or risk losing you.
emma that’s where i draw the line – the spat on hanky. i’d rather they were grimy – and they are, most of the time.
lqs know what you mean about losing dignity. it leaves as the stretchmarks arrive.
rafael said,
August 9, 2007 at 6:14 pm
So true. Why waste those delicious husks of orange segment once the kid has naively sucked all the horrible juice out of them. They don’t know what they’re missing. Yum.
See also: food off the floor.