Memorable Things Your Kids Said About Food

[pyrguy]

My Granddaughter couldn't pronounce pizza. She called it pea-azz. She knew the difference though when asked if she wanted pea-azz she'd reply," No not pea-azz. I want pea-azz!"

[esperanza]

When my son was seven and my daughter was just three, said son was morosely pushing his scrambled eggs around on his plate in an interminable dawdle. Husband says, "Ess, Kirk, ess..." Kirk, puzzled, says, "Ess?" Husband answers, "It means eat in Yiddish."

Charming daughter pipes up, "Yeah, Kirk, ess...it's in ya dish!"

[Carrot Top]

This thread came to mind the other night. We were eating pitas filled with sliced steak and some salad stuff that included very thin slivers of red onion.

My eleven year old son ate one and asked for another. Fishing for a compliment, I asked "So you like it?"

He looked at me and said, "Yes! And what I really like about the flavor is how the onions are STAPLING the steak. It really works!"

"Stapling" the flavor. Yeah.

[Zucchini Mama]

I like ginger cookies and my five-year-old son likes chocolate chip cookies, so we make regular choc chip cookies sometimes, and other times we make choc chip ginger cookies, which we had the other day. Zucchini Bambino took one bite, then he said "Ah mom, I wish ginger had never been invented." (He did dip his chicken pieces into Hainan chicken ginger sauce the other day, so there is hope that he will come around to liking the "invention" of ginger.)

He also recently made the following statement, which must have been inspired from a fairy tale: "Mom, did you know the wolf's coat was made of wolf skin?" I guess that means he ate a wolf for dinner."

Zuke

Edited September 25, 2005 by Zucchini Mama (log)

[avocado]

My dad had a fondness for White Castle hamburgers when I was growing up. I loved them too and called them "little girl hamburgers" because they were the perfect size me me, a little girl. That's how we still refer to them.

[M.X.Hassett]

This is eg-member curlz's sig

""I'm not eating it...my tongue is just looking at it!" --My 3.5 year-old niece, who was NOT eating a piece of gum"

My niece loves french fries so I asked her one time why, she said "Oh I really don't like french fries that much, they are just a good way to get the ketchup into your mouth".

[Chris Amirault]

He looked at me and said, "Yes! And what I really like about the flavor is how the onions are STAPLING the steak. It really works!"

←

Better copyright that. I can see it turning up on a FoodTV show as the chef host's tag line: "But we want to take that apple pie to the next level, don't we?!? Yeah! Let's STAPLE that apple with cinnamon!" [crowd roars]

[LaurieA-B]

A few weeks ago, I baked a blackberry cornmeal cake that was all right, not great. The remains sat under a cake cover until Matthew noticed it and threw it away, telling Iris (age 20 months) that it was going in the garbage because it was "old cake." When I got home from work she was burbling about, "Dada, old cake, garba."

This evening, after we put her to bed in her crib, we heard her murmuring, "Old cake, old cake, old cake. New cupcakes. Make 'em! New cupcakes! Make 'em!"

[kellytree]

My daughter was in the hospital with meningitus - after a week she finally woke up and said "I want a peach".

I went to the nurse and DEMANDED a peach (hey she was almost dead so it was all good with me)

They brought a cup of canned peaches - gave my daughter a bite

she spit it out and screamed "che schifo!" translated "disgusting" -

My son in the US - " They have the cookies with this and with that and all the cookies with all the things in it - I just want a cookie"

daughter in the US - I gave her a bowl of fruit loops for breakfast - she looks at them and says "ma - why you give me the dog food??" ... cereal is now know as dog food.

[Angeline7270]

In 1998, I had a huge garden and had designated a patch of it for my 4 and 5 yr olds to plant radishes, green beans and yellow squash. Later on in the summer, i had grilled some burgers and served them on sesame seed buns. My 5 yr old look at me excitedly and asked, "Mommy, if I plant these seeds, can I grow a hamburger plant?"

[lcdm]

I told my daughter (4) she must eat a little more of her string beans before she could have dessert.

She replied that her tummy was not hungry for string beans, it was hungry for ice cream.

[jgm]

My niece, who is now a mother herself, was responsible for some of the best food stories and phrases in our family. Cheerios were "cho-cho's"; vanilla wafers were "Grandma Emma cookies." Those names, and others, have stuck for more than 20 years.

Julie went through a phase, around age 3, in which all food had to be white. Noodles, yogurt, cottage cheese, mashed potatoes. Only white. Except chocolate --she, my father, and I are the family chocoholics. Dad has always kept a stash of chocolate bars, and one morning Julie asked for one. He honored her request, understanding that she was a generous child, and she would share with him. It was then that we became aware that chocolate was more than an occasional preference, and had reached addiction status with her. She turned the unwrapped bar over and over in her hands, and held it up to her nose and smelled it. Several times. Dad grew impatient; he wanted some chocolate! "Aren't you going to eat it?" he inquired.

"Yeah," she said. "But I like to smell it, too. You know what, Grandpa? I always think of these in the night."

[jvictor930]

My most memorable food related thing I said as a child was simple...I had gotten a play kitchen for Christmas when I was around 5 years old, and I loved playing with it. After a while though, I did need to ask "Mommy, how do you expect me to work with only 4 burners!"

[Majra]

When my son was 4, I volunteered at his preschool. One day they had a simple bread baking activity: each child was given a portion of Bridgford dough to play with for a while, then rise, bake, and eat for snack. As the teacher was giving the children their pieces of dough, she lovingly explained "that you can make your bread into anything at all! You can make a snake, or a snail, or any shape that you want!" My son shouted, "I'm making mine into focaccia!"

Another favorite: When he was about 5, and I offered him some vegetables at dinnertime, he replied, "No thank you, that's much too green for me."

[mizducky]

Having no offspring of my own, I'll have to regale you with a story from my own childhood.

In my hometown was a beloved local ice cream parlor--long gone, alas--with a big sign at the front counter listing all their 40-something flavors and such. And at the bottom of this sign was a notice reading "SORRY CONES AVAILABLE AT COUNTER ONLY" (pretty much exactly like that, all capitals, no punctuation). Well, I puzzled over that notice every time we went for ice cream, and finally got up the nerve to ask my parents if I could order a "sorry cone." It took them a moment to figure out what the heck I was talking about, but boy did they ever crack up--and boy was I ever miffed! ("But that's what the sign said!")

[racheld]

My four-year-old son's first sip of bubbly, icy-cold ginger ale: "I like this!!! It tastes like my foot's asleep!"

[lamb]

My niece, who is now a mother herself, was responsible for some of the best food stories and phrases in our family.  Cheerios were "cho-cho's"; vanilla wafers were "Grandma Emma cookies."  Those names, and others, have stuck for more than 20 years.

Julie went through a phase, around age 3, in which all food had to be white.  Noodles, yogurt, cottage cheese, mashed potatoes.  Only white.  Except chocolate --she, my father, and I are the family chocoholics.  Dad has always kept a stash of chocolate bars, and one morning Julie asked for one.  He honored her request, understanding that she was a generous child, and she would share with him.  It was then that we became aware that chocolate was more than an occasional preference, and had reached addiction status with her.  She turned the unwrapped bar over and over in her hands, and held it up to her nose and smelled it.  Several times.  Dad grew impatient; he wanted some chocolate!  "Aren't you going to eat it?" he inquired. 

"Yeah," she said.  "But I like to smell it, too.  You know what, Grandpa?  I always think of these in the night." 

←

This reminded me of my now teenaged daughter when she was about 3 or so. She LOVED to eat - it appeared as though she had a hollow leg because she ate, well, just alot, and all the time, and was tiny. She must have had dreams about eating, because through the baby monitor during the middle of the night, my hubby and I would be awakened to her talking in her sleep. "Cookie, rice, meat and hungry" were often yelled out while she slept. My older son, in the next bedroom would also wake up when he heard her talking, and would tell her the next day. She would get angry at him, and tell me he was making up stories about her. When I collaborated his story, she was just as mad at me.

She doesn't talk in her sleep any more, but loves to eat just the same. Thank goodness she is active and has a fast metabolism or she would need a forklift to move her around.

[Ling]

My four-year-old son's first sip of bubbly, icy-cold ginger ale:  "I like this!!!  It tastes like my foot's asleep!"

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That's so cute! When my 4 year old cousin's foot was asleep, she came up to me and said, "My foot feels spicy!"

[jgarner53]

A friend's son, then about 2, asked his mom for a strawberry without the "spots" (seeds). Thankfully, not being one of those overindulging moms, she did not oblige him.

Same kid later announced that he wanted to be a snowman when he grew up. Not food related, I know, but very cute.

[munchymom]

It's funny to revisit this thread, as my omnivorous 2-year-old has transformed into a picky 3-year-old despite my best efforts. Now when I ask him what he wants to eat, he replies with what he doesn't want. "No chicken or burger or soup." He is now *very specific* in his food requests - he asks not for juice, but for "A juice cup with three ice cubes in it please."

[YWalker]

I had a wonderful child-care provider when my kids were younger. She always made nutritious lunches. Realizing that not everything she made would be to their tastes, she had just a couple of ground rules: They were required to take one bite of new foods. If they didn't like it, they didn't have to eat the rest. Also, if they couldn't say anything nice, they were not allowed to say "Oooh, yuck!" or make other negative comments.

I am not a fan of re-fried beans, so they're never served in our household. One day, when I went to pick up the kids, my child care provider came out laughing so hard she was almost in tears. That day, she had served Mexican food, complete with refried beans, for lunch. She had seen "the look" in my 5 year old son's eyes, and reminded him that if he couldn't say anything nice, he shouldn't say anything at all. He replied that "That looks like really nice dog poop."

*****

And, another kid-ism from my own childhood. I was the 4th of 5 kids, so it was very common for my Mom to be kept busy baking things for school bake sales, sending stuff in for our classrooms, etc. [unlike today, when NC schools say that parent-baked goods are forbidden because they might carry food poisoning.] One time when Mom was baking cookies and was surrounded by kids who wanted a sample, she said "Hands off! Those are for the bake sale." My sister Cathy replied "Can I just have this big ugly one over here?" Forever after that, when my Mom was baking, there were always a few "Big Uglies" left for us to sample.

[fifi]

When my daughter was about 3, we were at the in-laws' house for Sunday dinner. My MIL used the "traditional" rant to get her to eat more of her dinner . . . "Think of the starving children in [insert underpriveleged nation here]." My daughter's reply . . . "Oh yeah? Name one." (She was verbally precocious. Still is. )

One day at the country place in Texas, my mother and I left my son, then about 2, in the care of his grandfather while we went to the next town for some shopping. We came back to this little chubby cherub with the blonde curls, sitting in his high chair, completely covered with peanut butter. Dad had given him a particularly fat peanut butter sandwich to "play with." I mean, the kid had it smushed into his hair, nose, ears and every place else he could find to stuff it. When we walked in and gazed in horror, he said with trilling giggles . . . "It's YUUUUUUK! It's NAAAAASTY!" giggle giggle. To this day, he is now 33, we use that phrase to refer to any number of things. Dad never owned up to teaching him the phrase.