We make spaghetti for dinner maybe once every six weeks or so. Neither of the girls like it much but they’ll eat it as long as we have garlic bread to go with it.
On a recent trip to Aldi, Tom picked up a couple of boxes of fettuccine.
He just boils it as if it were spaghetti and pours tomato sauce over it.
One recent Tuesday, Tom cooked some fettuccine and served it to Olivia (Alyssa had eaten at Gram’s house and so was able to avoid the drama of flat ‘spaghetti.’)
When Olivia arrived at the kitchen table (after using the bathroom because, hello, transition) she looked at the plate on the table and declared, “I hate flat spaghetti.”
Tom told her not to be like that. He said pasta is pasta and it doesn’t matter what shape the spaghetti is in, it all tastes the same.
She argued with him through the entire meal. Every single bite she took was accompanied by a grimace and the declaration that flat spaghetti is disgusting.
For what it’s worth, I ate it and it was fine.
But Liv is a creature of habit. Spaghetti is supposed to be, well, spaghetti shaped. Fettuccine is different and she hates different.
I think she bitched about that flat spaghetti the rest of the night, long after dinner was over.
Since I don’t go to Aldi (no reason, just…don’t) I have no idea if they have regular spaghetti and if they do, I don’t know if the fettuccine is cheaper or something.
I didn’t bother to ask Tom why he bought fettuccine rather than spaghetti. I don’t care. I mean, if I don’t have to cook the stuff, I’m not going to be picky about what someone else cooks.
But Olivia? That girl will pick something to the bone.
The next night Tom didn’t bother to try and serve Liv the leftover flat spaghetti. I think he decided that was one hill he wasn’t willing to die on.
A mom, a dad and two daughters. We're living ordinary lives with a twist of 5p- (Cri du Chat) for spice. But we're about so much more than our younger daughter's genetic diagnosis.
No comments:
Post a Comment