Had to go to the grocery store the other day. We were out of noodles. In fact, we were out of all things pasta. Not a good place to be when you live with my noodle-lovin' kid.
As I drove there, I mulled over the idea of whole wheat pasta. It's better for you. It has more fiber. I didn't tell kiddo what I was thinking, I just kept it in my head.
Got to the pasta aisle. Don't you just love the different shapes? So creative. Anyway, I mentioned that I was going to buy the whole wheat kind and I started reading labels.
You would have thought I had suggested going on a 40-day fast. People four aisles away were privy to part of this next conversation:
Me: It tastes the same.
Her: NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!! I. JUST. WANT. THE. REGULAR. KIIIIIIIIND. (imagine all sorts of body language accompanying the protests)
Me: (still reading labels) Hmmmm.
Her: (with a big pkg of "the regular kind" in her hands) HERE. This is what I WANT.
Me: No, I think we will try the whole wheat kind. You won't even notice.
Her: (arms folded across her chest) You sound just like MeMe (her grandma).
Me: Thank you.
The muttering and murmuring continued (ignored by me) until we got to the dairy aisle. Then there was this:
Her: I guess it will be ok. I mean, I think I'll like the new kind of noodles ok.
Me: (expressionless) Ok.
We left the store with our new noodles and a nomination for a "Best Protest in a Noodle Aisle" Oscar.
I can hardly wait till puberty hits.