I’m in awe of the chicken feet. Or maybe it’s fear. I’m going to call it awe, though, just so that I feel a little better about myself.
One of the lessons that I have learned (although I like to say “learnt” for the effect) over the past few years is that not every situation has to go my way, especially when it comes to our kids. Kim’s been instrumental in helping me sort out the things which matter from those which don’t (as much). I think that overall there are way less things that have to be “my way or the highway” than I used to imagine. We might not see eye-to-eye on everything, but that doesn’t mean that I think you’re wrong. It doesn’t mean that I’m necessarily opposed to you getting your way.
You know where I saw that in action tonight? Chicken feet.
Yep. Josie likes chicken feet. She misses chicken feet from China, so Kim bought some at the Asian Market here in town. Annabelle had never eaten them, so she didn’t even know what they’d taste like (too spicy for Annabelle!). But Josie LOVES chicken feet.
Now, I wasn’t too thrilled at the simple idea of munching down on chicken feet, especially cold, spicy, prepackaged in China chicken feet. But I figured that I can’t judge a food without tasting it, so I said I’d join Josie. The non-adventurous around the table were making gaggy noises, talking about how disgusting the chicken feet smelled, really making a big deal of the whole thing. I think Josie might have gotten her feelings hurt.
How would you feel if someone described one of your favorite foods as disgusting? It was a teachable moment, and we all agreed that there’s a pretty significant difference between not liking a food and making someone else feel stupid for liking it. We’ll have to see if it sticks, but it felt like we made some progress tonight. It’s not like I’m nominating us for the Nobel Peace Prize or offering to resolve hostage situations for the government. But it felt like we gained a little ground around the chicken feet.
And just for the record–I didn’t like the chicken foot. I tried to like it. I wanted to like it. I gnawed on the chicken foot in a vain attempt to make it food-like for me. I don’t think Josie’s going to have to worry about sharing her delicacies with the fam. I’ll take my chicken from a little higher on the bird, thank you.
But if you loves you some chicken feet, Josie-girl, go for it. I’ll keep cheering you on, long after the other kids have walked away from the table. Mom’ll keep making the trip to the market. Even if nobody else in the family likes it, if it’s important to you, I’m pretty sure that we can make it happen every once in a while. Bon apetit!
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