Take a moment to think about your child’s pickiest eating moments. There may be hope. Last weekend, about a hour after a messy showdown over lunch, my 9-year-old son said something to me that I never would have imagined coming out of his mouth in my lifetime—not the words he connected, not the sentiment he expressed. “Dad,” he said, “I like customizable salads.”
There’s a bigger tale here than a developing palette. On Saturday morning, I explained to my son that the day would bring a mix of activities for the two of us. I would take him to the dentist, to find a Halloween costume, and to his baseball practice—but I also needed him to accompany me for an hour to attend a work-related event. My friends at Parents Of Accelerated Learners had put on a wonderful day-long symposium for parents on gifted education, and I wanted to check it out to show my support. Of course, Adam balked about going to my event, and when it came time to go, he balked about grabbing a quick lunch on the way.
I held my ground, ordered from the salad bar at Fairway (which was great), and suggested that he grab a pre-made sandwich. After an outpouring of faces and grunts, he asked if he could order from the salad bar too (but only “what he wants”). “Are you kidding me?” I was thinking to myself—this is the single best moment of my parenting life! Then, after he devoured his salad during the taxi ride to the G&T symposium, he said the fateful words: “I like customizable salads.” (The key, by the way, may be the bacon bits.)
Later that day, on the way to baseball practice, Adam floored me again.
“This was a good day,” he said. “It was a win-win. Something for you and something for me.”
“That’s right,” I affirmed.
But who is this child?
One of my favorite child development experts once said to me that one of the greatest story lines of growing up is the ability to manage frustration and disappointment. It starts with meltdowns, and hopefully ends with an adult’s sense of perspective and understanding.
Adam is like most 9-year-old kids and then some. But seeing these flashes of perspective was kind of thrilling, a hopeful glimpse of a gentleman in the works.
Eric Messinger is the editor of New York Family. He can be reached at [email protected].
