PB&J -- the right way, please!

Children prefer very simple tasting foods. I know this. I swear we keep Grandma Sycamore's bread company and the Skippy peanut butter factory in business. Quite frankly, I think Spencer would shrivel away to nothing if it weren't for the staying power of peanut butter and white bread. Now for me, sticky, hydrogenated peanut butter on white bread is barely on the fringe of acceptable food choices. I prefer Sycamore's Whole Wheat & Honey with Sunflower Seeds and Maranatha's organic smooth peanut butter. A sandwich such as this has delicious texture and just a hint of sweetness. It is also substantially healthier.

At 11am, when my sweet hobbits were requesting their third meal of the morning, I decided to see if they would like (okay, tolerate) a peanut butter sandwich with my sunflower bread (for continuity, I still used the Skippy --- shudder). I meticulously cut all the crusts off, cut the sandwhich in half the long way, and made sure that everything looked appropriate. I even cut up an apple (all traces of peel removed) and poured them some cranberry juice. I was thrilled with this healthy offering. I took it out to them on the deck, where they had decided to take their meal.

Chelsea eyed the bread suspiciously, "What is this?"

"It's your peanut butter sandwhich," I responded.

"What's the matter with it?" She asked.

"Nothing. Try it." I sat down casually next to her.

She took one small bite, apparently missing the sunflower seeds. "It's okay."

Spencer didn't eat. I had served his sandwhich on the red plate, instead of the green one. In response to this outrage, he was hiding under the chair chanting, "Green, green, green, green," until the plate magically changed color.

Chelsea took another bite and chewed for a minute. Suddenly her face contorted into what appeared to be a convulsion. She ran inside, leaned over the garbage and violently spit everything out of her mouth. She then got a drink, gargled, and spit into the sink.

When she came back out on the deck she looked at me with horror. "What is in that bread??!!"

I found her reaction to be so overly dramatic that I responded simply, "Cockroach legs."

"What?! Mom that's gross! Nobody eats cockroach legs!" She yelled.

"Oh, com'on, Chelsea. They're all dead. Cockroaches are great fiber."

Spencer stopped chanting "green, green, green" and climbed up on his chair to look at the bread instead of the plate.

"What?! I'm telling Carter!!" She stormed off and returned with Carter a minute later.

"Mom, tell him there are cockroach legs in the bread!"

I said nothing.

Carter looked at her sandwich and said, "No, Chelsea, I've had that bread before. It just has seeds in it or something."

"No, she said it was cockroach legs!" She pointed at me.

Carter asked me, "Mom, is it really cockroach legs?"

"Chelsea acted like it was," I said, eyeing her. "It's just sunflower seeds. But you acted like I was trying to poison you. Do you think I would feed you something bad?" I asked.

They all looked at me for a minute, pondering.

"Well, I wouldn't," I answered for them. "I want you to be healthy, so I gave you a healthy wheat bread with some seeds in it. They are delicious and they give it a little bit of a crunch. It's good," I said with a smile.

But, nobody was convinced. I went inside and made them all sandwiches on bleached white bread with sticky, hydrogenated peanut butter. At least this time, I got the plate colors right.