This is a true story:
When I was in college, I was eating at a Mexican restaurant with some friends and one of the guys saw me double-dipping my chip. When he confronted me, I didn’t deny it, but I didn’t think it was a big deal. I said, and I quote: “If you’re going to get germs from me double-dipping, then you’re going to get germs by sitting at a table with me.”
And then he threw his chair across the room.
Now, my son is a double dipper. He’s actually more like a quintuple dipper. Or “dipper as many times as he can manage.”
He was interested, which wasn’t a surprise, he’s interested in everything I eat.
He wanted to copy what I was doing, so I let him dip.
He went back for more.
He sucked the guac off the pretzel, then re-dipped the same tiny piece of pretzel.
…over and over and over again.
When David was 12 months old I declared that he loved all food, and I couldn’t think of a food he didn’t like. I was so proud of him, because doesn’t that say amazing things about me as a mother? My son will eat black beans and hamburgers and tomato slices and whatever else I put on his plate. That must mean I’ve done everything right, offered variety, limited sugar and held the door for ladies with strollers (what I’m saying is: good people hold the door for ladies with strollers).
Then David came into his own and acted like all his favorite foods, including chicken nuggets, chocolate chip cookies, and ice cream, were somewhere between offensive and a violation of the Geneva Convention.
For months he’s been very clear about his position on avocados and guacamole: he didn’t like them. So when he started eating ours, Tom and I were so excited, but we didn’t want to scare him off, so (besides running to get the camera) we acted like it was no big deal.
But it’s a huge deal.
He’s eating avocado and double dipping, we’ve never been more proud.