I’m trying to teach my daughter to share.
Yeah, yeah. You think she’s too young to understand the concept. But I think she’s a genius and can understand much more than might seem possible for an 8-month-old.
So, as I was saying, I’m trying to teach Baby Bird to share. I share my yogurt with her, she shares her banana-orange puree with me. I share some of my water with her, she shares her banana-orange puree with me. I share overripe pears with her, she shares her banana-orange puree with me.
Our arrangement has, thus far, worked well. She’s even started offering me her toys and teething crackers. I usually refuse the crackers and sub in some banana-orange puree. (I swear that stuff is laced with drugs. So is the mango puree. O.M.G. is it good.)
But I’m afraid her father is going to derail our progress.
Mr. T has the biggest heart of any person I know. He’d give me or Baby Bird his last dollar, even his last breath.
But he won’t share his food with her.
We’ve been discussing it since before she was born. He, like Rita Templeton of Scary Mommy, has this thing about germs and backwash. They have this aversion to eating food covered in baby slobber or drinking water with floating bits and pieces in it.
Really silly stuff, you know?
This was the last conversation the hubs and I had on the subject:
Me: “You really won’t share your food with Baby Bird?”
Mr. T: “It’s a mental thing. There’s just something about slobber.”
Me. “Drinking after your daughter would be the grossest thing you’ve done with your mouth? You’ve never eaten something off the floor or off the kitchen counter?”
Mr. T: “Yeah, off the counter …”
Me: “The cat walks on the kitchen counters. You know that, right? Every night. I know she does. You’ll eat what was on the cat’s feet, but you won’t drink behind your daughter?”
Mr. T: “I mean, I didn’t really think about that. But like I said, it’s a mental thing …”
Me: “You think the cat’s feet are cleaner than your daughter’s mouth? She’s probably the least-germy thing in this house.”
Mr. T: “No. Look, it’s about the slobber …”
Me: “Well, you kiss me. There’s slobber there.”
Mr. T: “But that’s different …”
Me. “You think my spit is cleaner than hers? It’s not. Hell, it’s my spit and I’ll admit it’s not.”
Mr. T: “But that’s different. … (Sigh) It’s just a mental thing.”
I totally agree. It’s mental.
But don’t worry, Mr. T. We’ll get your mind right. And it’ll be sooner rather than later.
[…] A few months ago, I called Mr. T out for his unwillingness to share. […]
Banana baby food, mmm. Almost worth having another baby over to justify buying it 😉
I’m weird about sharing food and stuff with people (I’m always the one who cringes when someone wants to taste a cocktail), but don’t mind it with the kids (well, not cocktails), even though they’re more likely to get me sick.
Just sneak the baby food into your shopping cart, or pretend you’re buying it to make smoothies. I won’t judge you. 😄
I completely understand not wanting to share with adults. No matter how clean we are, we’re still gross! But Baby Bird is pretty new, kinda fresh out of the packaging. Her grossness level is still low (at least that’s what I keep telling myself). 😂
I like the way you think 😀
Really love your humour ☺ I’m gonna have to side with Mr T, I don’t share food not because of germs, more that I’m a greedy mamma! Jess knows her dad us good for a snacks but she rarely asks for mine 😂 she still shares though, just not her good snacks – that’s my girl 👏😁
I’m POSITIVE I’ll be a greedy mama, too 🙂 But for right not, I’m willing to share the healthy stuff with her — especially if it means I get to eat some of her Gerber banana-orange puree. I can’t believe how good that stuff is!
Now, my sharing-is-caring stance will likely change when she’s old enough to ask for some of my chocolate. I’ve gotta draw the line somewhere.