The Z Monster has been looking a bit on the string bean side, so we decided to spend part of the Memorial Day weekend in Nebraska so he could put a few pounds on. If you are ever in danger of blowing away, then run don’t walk to M’s mom’s and do whatever it takes to get her to make her world-famous fried chicken and gravy.
Z’s been a bit picky in the meat department. He has scarfed down baked ham at the major holidays, but even that he won’t eat all of the time. Doesn’t seem to like beef in any form. And up until this weekend, he has never allowed a piece of chicken to sneak into a spoonful of anything. (He will eat my chicken noodle soup, but it is puréed beyond recognition, I suppose.) He wouldn’t even try my peanut butter and herb fried chicken, which sounded about as kid-friendly as a main course comes. Z’s a fruit and bread man, and prefers eggs and cheese as his protein sources. But all of that changed this weekend, and getting a taste of Western Nebraska fried chicken and gravy. The danger now is that we may have spoiled him. He may come to expect that dinner always should taste like this, and every time he needs a decent meal we’ll have to drive two hours east.
Z feels right at home on the farm. He pointed at the cows and horses on the drive there, and he instinctively made engine sounds every time he saw a tractor. His vocabulary is in the twenty word range, but he added the sound effect “moo” as soon as he saw the cows up close.
Wherever you are and whatever you’re doing, we hope you’re with the folks you care about this Memorial Day.