"we're having WHAT for dinner?" (lyn)

There was a time when Alexander ate everything that was served.  Even as a child, he liked his fruits and vegetables.  As he grew older, he became more selective, while still maintaining the peculiarities of his youth.  For example:

1. Alexander does not like condiments of any kind.  He even eats sushi without soy sauce.  And French fries without ketchup. 

2. He doesn’t like sandwiches (with the exception of hamburger and grilled cheese).  A few years ago on the Cape, Alexander and his two cousins were annoying my mother.  Jack and Sally, who are sister and brother, were in a major screaming match.  My mother’s nerves were frayed and she exploded.  When she ran out of things to yell at Sally and Jack about, she turned on Alexander and apropos of nothing, shouted, “And you, why won’t you eat sandwiches?!”

Tonight, Alexander comes home from school and asks, “What’s for dinner?”  “Roast pork,” I say, then intentionally mumble something after that.  “What?  What did you say?”  Caught.  I have to tell him that I had bought Berkshire pork stuffed with figs and apricots at Agata.  His reaction is way overblown.  A little fit erupts with accusations like:  “You know I hate that.  Don’t you care about what I eat?”  And then, because I’m not feeling bad enough, “You’re the reason I’m so skinny.  You don’t feed me anymore.”

As if it’s a threat, Alexander says he’ll make some frozen mini-pizza bagels with pasta.  Miraculously I’m able to convince him to have the pork.  “I’ll eat the fruit inside it,” I offer. “But it’s already contaminated the meat,“ he whines. 

By the end of dinner, I don’t have to ask Alexander if he likes it.  I can see from his empty plate and lack of complaining that he does.  While we are eating our sorbet, Alexander turns to me and asks, “What's for dinner tomorrow night?  Steak with strawberries?”