I was a picky eater as a child, and am still not a big fan of vegetables that are not in the starch family. Franklin takes that further by not really caring for any foods not in the starch family. If we let him, he’d eat a tortilla, Pringle’s, some crackers, and some plain pasta for dinner and be perfectly content.
The real difficulty comes in the fact that he is picky within the subcategory of things he likes. For instance as we move toward wartime type rationing here I’ve bought blocks of Cheddar cheese for us to shred rather than the preshredded bags we often buy, tonight we learned that unlike every other living person, Franklin does not like freshly shredded cheddar cheese, only the preshredded, covered in powder type.
My wife and I on the other hand pledge to stop buying the preshredded stuff every time we shred some ourselves and are reminded of its superiourity. I think we would stick with that plan if the cheese shredder we’ve had for 15+ years wasn’t such a pain to clean. (Note to self: spend $10 on a cheese shredder that’s easier to clean.)
Franklin is also a literalist, to a degree that it can be infuriating. As I sit here looking at an unfinished portion of macaroni and cheese, I am reminded of a trip to The Mansion on Turtle Creek in Dallas when Franklin was three-and-a-half. For those unacquainted with The Mansion, it is extremely fancy (we once enjoyed dinner a table over from Roger Staubach in the chef’s room).
Since we had kids with us and my in-laws are regulars we were given a nice private room for dinner. At that time Franklin was kept alive solely through the consumption of macaroni and cheese, so it was no surprise when he chose it for his entree. The surprise came when the waitress set down a beautiful plate of cheesy creamy pasta in front of him and he looked right at her and said, “That’s not macaroni, macaroni looks like this” and bent one finger to resemble a piece of elbow macaroni.
The waitress agreed that he was correct and that his “macaroni” and cheese was made with penne. I enjoyed every bite of it.
A few weeks later we got a call from my in-laws. On their next trip to The Mansion, the waitress informed them that the “macaroni incident” was discussed at their staff meeting and from now on they would have elbow macaroni on hand for macaroni and cheese. You’re welcome fancy children of Dallas, Franklin is looking out for you!