The Pimp, The Ho, and the Beef Combo Burrito
{Originally posted at Missives From Suburbia}
The Ambassador is a notoriously picky eater. More so than the average two-year-old from what I gather by comparing notes with my mom friends. I’m sure it’s a stage. Well, I hope it’s a stage, and he hasn’t inherited my father’s abysmal taste in food (everything dry, please, and burn if it you have the time, thanks). I suppose we’ll find out in about 20 years or so.
But really, it’s bad. The Ambassador won’t even touch the usual kid foods. No chicken fingers, no hot dogs, no pizza, no spaghetti, and let’s not discuss condiments of any kind. We’ve resorted to things like boxed mac & cheese, Hamburger Helper — which I’d never even tasted before a couple months ago — and our current fallback, Taco Bell’s Beef Combo Burritos.*
Truth be told, Hubby does end up taking the kid out to lunch more than I do, but that’s because I’m too lazy to leave the house most days, not because Hubby is any less concerned about The Ambassador’s nutritional well-being. Anyway, knowing how often they dine out together, it didn’t surprise me the other day when we swung by the Taco Bell in midtown Minneapolis (aka, the Taco Bell voted most likely to be held up at gunpoint), and Hubby said, “Hey! That’s the pimp and the hooker I told you about last time we were here!” Uhhh… refresh me on that one, honey?
Apparently, at their last visit, the conversation at the table next to my boys went something like this:
PIMP: (COUNTING CASH IN HIS HAND) Is that all you *expletive* brought?
HO: Yeah.
PIMP: I KNOW you made more *expletive* money than that *expletive*.
(CONVERSATION ENSUES. READ AS: EXPLETIVE, EXPLETIVE, EXPLETIVE.)
HUBBY: Hey, would you mind watching your language? I’ve got the little guy here.
PIMP: Oh, yeah, sorry. I’ll watch my language for the little fucker.
HUBBY: Uh, thanks.
After two brushes with the pimp and the ho, Hubby has declined membership in the Midtown Taco Bell Frequent Buyer program and will likely be traveling a bit further to the more upscale franchise in Edina in the future. I’m pretty relieved, because I wouldn’t want anything to happen to them, and I’m not sure Hubby’s life insurance will pay out if State Farm can prove a pattern of fraternizing with known criminals.**
*Go ahead, roll your eyes. He’s my kid. Go get your own.
**I don’t intend to work while I mourn.
Editor’s Pick by Amanda from The Wink: Sometimes it takes a while to decide if something is going to be good, other times you just know, case in point, my first trip to Missives From Suburbia. Deb fesses right up about the dog hair in her home and I don’t know about you, but I could use a little less Martha in the folks I spend my time around. If the dog hair and diaper chaos don’t hook you, her witty way of weaving marital tales and hysterical-yet-tender posts about The Ambassador, will have you longing for more Missives From Suburbia. Go now and check out the original post or better still, go ahead and become a subscriber.
Editor
Amanda Magee
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October 22nd, 2008
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Category:
Author-Missives in Suburbia, Channel- Family, Children, Kids, Teenagers, Editor- Amanda The Wink, Featured 2, Wednesday 2, boys, food
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Hmm, did we offend? I seriously love this post. Some of my favorite moments with Sean are those in which we find the absurdity in a moment. Hopefully the new little burrito Deb has in her belly will lead to great blog fodder.
Amandas last blog post..Hope to see you there!
Maybe I’m biased, but I laughed.
Debbie at Missives From Suburbias last blog post..Oh, Let It Rest Already
Well, I thought it was great, and very funny. I’m just late to the party, that’s all! Good plan about not working during mourning. ; )
[Picky eater hint, and I hope this helps: cut up whatever you give him into little chunks -- hot dogs, pickles, chicken breast, cheese, apples -- and put them on a platter with a few colored toothpicks, like 1970s hors d'oeuvres. Always worked for us!]