Eat Your Damn Cheese

If you don’t have kids, you may not realize exactly how annoying and frustrating they can be.  Or maybe you do, and that’s why you don’t have kids.  But if you don’t know, allow me to enlighten you.

Almost every day for the past few years Ruby has had either a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or a bologna and cheese sandwich for lunch.  Of course there are exceptions, but I don’t think I am exaggerating to say that Ruby has had hundreds of sandwiches that include a slice of good old fashioned, processed American cheese.  Until last week when she informed me that she hated American cheese.

Okay, I get that tastes change, and American cheese isn’t really the Cadillac of cheeses, so that in itself was not a big deal to me.  Luckily, we had some decent provolone on hand, and when she tasted that she declared it to be good and her new favorite kind of cheese.  Fast forward to the next shopping trip.  For the first time in years I do not even buy American cheese.  I buy only provolone.

I’m sure you can all guess what happened next.  I proudly presented Ruby with a bologna and provolone sandwich, only to be told that provolone cheese was gross and she hated it and where was the old cheese and ewwwwwww.  To which I replied, “Tough luck.  You wanted it.  Eat your cheese.”  And you know, to her credit, she did.

Posted in Cheese, Food, Ruby.

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