Its happening. I can feel it. Its creeping up on me bit by bit. I hear it in the things I say, I see it in the things I do.
When I was little I hated vegetables. Mum tried every which way to get me to eat them. I remember spoons hurtling towards me, loaded with the stuff as Mum made the strangest noises desperately trying to persuade me that eating vegetables was fun. It didn't work. She used to tell me that carrots were goldfish. How she thought that would persuade me to eat them when I had two fish happily swimming round in a tank in my bedroom is beyond me. I guess she was desperate.
Then she got crafty. I would tuck into mashed potato only to discover broccoli, carrots, cabbage, you name it hiding in the middle. It didn't work. So she got craftier. As I cleaned plates of my favourite foods she would grin at me. "There was grated carrot in that you know" she would say. Yeah? Cheers.
But I did it today. Whats worse is that my daughter isn't a stroppy seven year old, she's barely 7 months and I'm already resorting to dirty tactics. Today, I actually took the trouble to hide bits of broccoli in her macaroni cheese. As if that wasn't enough I spread the leftover green stuff on the bottom of a rice cake handing it to Little Legs clean side up. So you see despite my many protests during my twenties that I wouldn't turn into my Mum,I quite clearly have.
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