It's official. Peanut is his grandmother's grandson. His Paternal grandmother is a certified butter addict. At dinner, the woman can go through multiple packs of butter on a single dinner roll. Butter on steak, extra butter on the mashed potatoes... you get the idea. In all fairness, my own family members are strong proponents of the creamy light yellow pats of heavenly delight as well. Little Man recently found two ways to express his fondness for this cholesterol inducing miracle food. Last week Jack learned to move and climb chairs. While I was out of the kitchen, he moved the chair, climbed to the table and acquired a spatula from the counter top. He proceeded to turn and attack the butter dish left on the table, which here to fore, had been beyond his grasp. Next thing I know, I return to the kitchen to find Jack licking butter by the spatula full.
Last night Jack and I visited my parents where we partook in some of the first sweet corn of the season, which was surprisingly delightful for being so early in the year. Anyway, Peanut doesn't do hot foods--so Grandpa gave him a half eaten half cob, that had previously been buttered and salted, while I pulled a hot cob to begin cooling. Little Man is absolutely mad about his corn--on the cob any way. He smashes in to the corn. I'm not sure exactly how much he actually gets in his mouth, but he has the best time using all of his amazing teeth. Anyway, when the second unflavored cob was cool, I offered it to Jack. After just a few bites, he handed it back to me--a very odd occurrence, given how much the kid loves his corn. Apparently his love of corn, is now second only to his love of butter, which he instantly began pointing at. Once I'd slathered a light coating over the cob, he ferociously attacked his cob with the zest of a true victor.
Unfortunately, not even butter will make him love broccoli.
