In a rare early-to-bed-with-no-tears move, Don't Call My Mummy Yummy is happily snoring away and my house is silent but for the ticking of a clock. Oh, and the munching of my housemate's prawn crackers which I'm trying my best to ignore. CRUNCHCRUNCHCRUNCH. Really, at least with a DP you can hit them round the head with a 'That's Not My Chainsaw' touchy-feely book.
Anyway, this post is really to offer support to Daizydoo - cos DCMMY also spits out the majority of the food stuffs I offer him (though is only too happy to wolf down books, magazines, carpet fluff...) He refuses 'meals' and so his diet (other than the above miscellaneous) consists of toast, apples, bananas, then not bananas, then bananas only if they've been mashed to a pulp, those ella's organic pouches, gherkins, rice cakes, raisins, baby porridge, and of course that good old staple to wash the carpet fluff down with - Mummy Milk. It's hard sometimes when friends tell how every day their baby eats steamed this, mashed that and what-have-you pie. DCMMY turns his nose up at my homemade bubble and squeak and dribbles my lovingly prepared soups all down his front in protest. The other day a friend gave me some generic spaghetti hoops in tomato sauce and once I'd confidently stated he'd never eat it - he wolfed down the lot. As I had been indoctrinated by my not-at-all-D-ex-P that Organic = Good, All-the-stuff-you-were-brought-up-eating = Child Abuse I had to stop myself from counting the E numbers on the label. Later I prepared DCMMY an organic veggie feast for dinner - and mopped it all up off the floor half an hour later as he munched happily on a toast crust and babbled away to Igglepiggle on the telly. Eeeeesh. I'm fed up of tying myself to the oven to no avail, so from now on I'm going to stop jumping through hoops - I'll heat them up and serve them with toast instead.