This past Saturday, Greg made corn beef hash for breakfast. Okay, listen, I am not a fan of corn beef hash. Not even a little bit. I had sort of a, ahem, bad experience with it when I was a kid (went to breakfast with my family at Ponderosa, had some corn beef hash and then proceeded to throw all of it up in the parking lot. Probably I had a bug or something, but who knows?) and ever since then I can’t even look at it without feeling my stomach flip a few times. Greg, although I love him so much, seems to love the stuff. Can’t say I understand him.
Anyway, this past Saturday, Greg broke open a can of crap–I mean corn beef hash–and was just about to put it in the pan to cook when he smelled it. And then he asked me to smell it. Probably his thinking behind this was for me to smell it, realize it’s just oh so good and then we could smile at each other, kiss, and have a wonderful breakfast. Probably what he didn’t expect was that when I smelled it, I would announce, “It smells like cat food!”
And neither of us really expected Zoey, who up until this point was quietly coloring at the kitchen table, to say, “I wanna smell it!”
So Greg let her smell it. And she wrinkled up her nose and said, “Cat food.”
Then she proceeded to tell us that she wanted cat food for breakfast.
In our defense, we tried to explain to her that it was, in fact, not ACTUALLY cat food. We told her that it was corn beef hash and asked her if she would like some. Nose wrinkle again and a very adamant, “No.” So, I said, “What do you want for breakfast?”
Oh dear God.
We didn’t try much longer to correct her because she’s a toddler and 1. once she gets something in her head, it’s stuck there FOREVER and 2. it’s always a fight to get her to eat something other than Oreos for breakfast anyway. If she wants to think she’s eating cat food, then so be it. Granted, she did pretend that she was a cat after that, but you know, she has a wonderful imagination (read: please tell us we didn’t completely mess up our kid with corn beef hash).
She did end up eating some corn beef hash for breakfast, but she seems to still be under the impression that it’s cat food. And you just know this is going to come back to haunt us in the future. I say this because it has happened in the past with other things. For example, in her favorite Dora the Explorer video, a mermaid yells for help (in English AND Spanish) because she’s lost. Zoey, with that wonderful imagination of hers, decided to play mermaid in the middle of Walmart a few months ago. She was sitting in the front of the cart and she started yelling for help. I had to explain to her that it wasn’t a good idea to yell help in the middle of the toothpaste aisle because people will think something is really wrong. I know she was just trying to be a mermaid, but honestly, no one in Walmart would have believed me if I had tried to explain that to them.
Now look at the current situation. Even though Greg and I tried to reason with her, Zoey is under the impression that she ate cat food. So, I’m just expecting that at the next big family gathering, Zoey is going to announce to everyone that she eats cat food. And then Greg and I will have to explain to everyone that heh, things might be tight money-wise, but WE DON’T CAT FOOD OMG.
Stupid corn beef hash. It started this whole mess. I knew years ago when I threw it up outside of Ponderosa that it was nothing but trouble.