Who says what?

Novelist, mother, minister, and yoga teacher muses on books, babies, motherhood, and what matters with reverent humor.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Accidental Escargot

One of the things I do, with great effort, is cook. And cook healthy meals for my family. They return the favor by refusing to eat what I've spent a good hour preparing in the kitchen. Or my children do anyway.

I don't come by cooking naturally. My mother never cared for it, so I'm entirely self-taught, and while I've always wanted children and a big family, it never dawned on me just how much cooking would be involved. I've actually become much better at it; what I can't manage is to enjoy it more.

At any rate, I did slave away at another healthy meal with a different source of protein (which I strive for each night, not so easy given the vegetarian limitations and the fact that the children will not eat lentils, the baby won't eat tofu, we're off the "fake" stuff ever since someone told me it's got estrogen and messes with little boys' systems--which may well not be true but once you've got something in your head...it's hard to get out--), including a lovely, green head of broccoli with peas, and a noodle dish.

After one helping, I piled on another plate and sat down to eat, dodging flying noodles, screams for yogurt, and spilled milk, when I noticed a snail, sans shell, on my plate. I suppose this makes it a slug, but it was more snail like with its twin tentacles and white, nub of a nose. For a moment, I prayed it was simply a mushroom from the sauce. But no, it was the real thing. And that was the end of dinner for me. (No, it did not come earlier when the preschooler regurgitated his broccoli into a tidy, green pile on his plate on account of eating too quickly. If I could not endure such events, I would never eat. Or I would never eat with my children. Which, come to think of it, is a really civilized idea.)

As a follow up to this spectacular meal, my son, who recently received a monster truck as a gift, told me, while driving the enormous thing over my torso while we sat in the rocking chair together, "Mama, my truck is soooo big it can even zoom over your nipples."

It's the little things that count, isn't it?


  1. eeewwwwwwwww. you just totaly grossed me out! talk about a different source of protein!

  2. Yup, been there... several times. It seems I am not the best washer of greens that come straight from the garden. I've come across slugs and snails several times, usually on the fork on the way to my mouth. I even bit into a peach to find half of a worm hanging out... that was after I swallowed the piece with the other half of the worm. End of meal.

  3. Oh. ICK.

    ick ick ick!!!!!

    We are so lucky the Goobs eats almost anything. Except snails. Or slugs.

    They're not kosher, you know.

  4. I think I would have felt better if the broccoli had come from my own garden, and not the grocery store. And I wasn't so sure it didn't come out of the jar of sauce either...I just sat there thinking about slugs creeping into the tomato sauce at the factory. Yuck.

  5. Hey, Amanda, I know you...or feel like I do anyway. Now just think of how much weight you would lose if you had slugs on your plate at every meal!!

  6. I know they're not kosher. Why do you think I passed it up? If I'm going to eat a slug, it better be a blessed one.

    Actually, the children were quite entertained by it, and my son kept reassuing me. "Maybe it's just a mushroom mama." I think I looked afraid. Very afraid.