I wasn’t there, so I can’t say for certain that this is exactly what happened, but this is the way I remember my dad telling the story. I’m not sure how old my older brother, Jeremy was, maybe 3 or 4, maybe older. I really don’t know. But Dad was chopping garlic for something and Jerm asked for a piece. Dad insisted that he wouldn’t like it, but Jerm assured Dad that he really liked garlic. I can only assume that it’s pleasing aroma is what caused my brother’s mistake. Garlic smells great. Dad eventually gave in. I can picture my brother, chomping down on that piece of garlic, insisting that he liked it while displaying a horrified grimace. Oh, how I would have loved to be there.
Last week I was making Sweet & Sour Tofu (yummy!) for dinner. As is our tradition, Ivy was sitting up on the counter while I chopped vegetables. First the carrot. She took a piece off the cutting board and ate it. Next the green peppers. That was tasty to her too. Next came the onion. Most of the time, I have to open every window and turn on all of the fans to keep from making myself cry and to make sure that Nick eventually comes down for dinner. Ivy seemed unfazed. She simply reached for a big hunk of onion. Now, these are about ½ inch pieces—not a fine dice. I tried to take it from her. She wasn’t too happy about that and started making a fuss.
“Ok! Fine, but you won’t like it.” I gave her the onion. She took a bite. Then another. She ate the whole piece. She reached for another, saying “More.” What could I do? I let her have it. Before long, her little eyes were red and puffy, but she continued to chomp away at that onion