From the Can to the Garbage Can
Sage spotted these on the shelf of Vons the other day.
“OOOH! I want THOSE!” she shouted, pointing to the can conveniently placed at the eye-level of a four year-old in the front of a shopping cart.
“I will get them for you,” I said, “if you promise to EAT them.”
She assured me she would. But I knew better. She does not yet get you don’t judge a can by its cover. She sees Ariel, Cinderella and Belle and thinks it contains rainbows and unicorns. Or something with sugar, at least.
Incidentally, the cover proclaims it has “cool shapes shaped pasta.” Trying to figure out exactly what that means is making me tilt my head to the side like my dogs when they hear a high-pitched sound.
I could still hope, though, right? I mean, what kid doesn’t like spaghettios? Although I remember they gave me the funny burps as a kid. I was more of a ravioli girl.
Nevertheless. She asked for the pisgettios all day yesterday. Finally, tonight, we served them for dinner.
I think she had two bites. She pronounced the ring-shaped pasta as tasting “weird,”, the food too “saucy” and the meatballs “okay.”
Well, at least she tried it. And now I never have to buy those crazy cool shapes shaped pasta again.