Levi eats his hot dogs plain--no bun, no relish, no ketchup. After serving him one the other night, per his request, I realized how pathetic and unbalanced it looked rolling around alone on his red plate. Sure, it was an organic beef hot dog--not the bad-for-you kind--and sure, I have incredibly low standards for dinner on the nights that Stupid Daddy is away in Georgia, but still: a kid needs more than that to make a meal.
"Levi," I said, "what are you going to eat for dinner besides a hot dog?"
There was a long pause while he chomped down and chewed.
"Another hot dog."
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
1 comment:
Yum yum. I remember one Thanksgiving when I was totally grossed out by turkey and insisted on a hot dog.
I like how Levi doesn't mess around with all the extras; it's like he's saying, "Let's get real, Mommy, the hot dog is the main point, right? All this other stuff just gets in the way."
Post a Comment