It’s four o’clock. You’ve worked a full 6.5 hours, picked up the children, vacuumed the living room, and fixed dinner (for you Yankees, that’s what you call supper). Is it too much to ask for everyone to eat what you have so lovingly prepared?

You see, I don’t just live with one of the pickiest eaters - OH NO- I am doomed to live with the 4 year old Finickiest Eater Champion of this county. Maybe the entire state of Texas, but I will have to check the stats.

He sniffs the food. He licks the food. And then the wrinkling of the nose commences. It was cute when he was two but now it’s just downright insulting. His list of approved foods are an Atkin’s nightmare: macaroni and cheese, chips, spaghetti, raviolis, string cheese, hotdogs, pancakes, waffles, pizza, and sausage.

I have these images of him at the age of 35 learning what high cholesterol is…and blaming me. “But son, I tried to get you to eat right,” as he has his first angioplasty.

What about my daughter, you ask? Well, as most first children will do, she tries to please me. “Look, I finished my roast and vegetables.” Great, but I am still trying to avoid my son’s future diabetes by shoving green beans down his throat. “Just eat two bites, PLEASE!” This boy that can wolf down three hotdogs, two drinkable yogurts, and five pieces of pizza in one setting, can’t open his mouth for two peapods.

Tonight I threw the gauntlet down: you’ll have no dinner. No quick macaroni, no microwaved meatballs, nothing.

“What are we having tomorrow night, Momma?” He pleads, with tears spilling down his cheeks. “I wanna eat dinner tomorrow night, really!”

We’ll see…….