no accounting for taste

As Ada grows older it is becoming more and more apparent that she really is half Elliot and half me. One of the more recent examples of this is Ada's current choice of breakfast food - pickles (YUCK!!). As you might have guessed by now, she certainly does not get this from me. What is even more odd is that we have never pushed pickles on her. At one point in time when Ada was just about a year old she took a bite of the pickle that came with a sub Elliot had brought home, and instead of throwing it to the floor in disgust she happily bore in for another bite. From that point on she has loved pickles. So much so, that we bought a jar of mini pickles - which I promptly hid away inside the refrigerator behind the jalapeno peppers and the six kinds of mustard we have. But that hasn't stopped Ada. She has always known where the pickle jar resided, and will (if hoisted up high enough) pick out the jar even though she has to maneuver it around the obstacle course of condiment jars I have set up. So for the past two mornings when I opened the fridge and asked her what she wanted for breakfast, she looked past the yogurt and the milk, past the bread and the left over chocolate birthday cake and proudly said, "PICKLES". And since I refuse to even touch a pickle, let alone get the pickle juice all over my fingers, I open the jar for her and she reaches her whole hand into the jar and pulls out the pickle of her choice.

Of course after she sucks all of the pickle juice off of the pickle and takes a bite or two she tires of the taste, and knowing that Mom does not do pickles, she calls out for "Daddy, Dadddeeee" and hands him her pickle and waits for the look of delight on his face as he takes a bite. To his credit Elliot usually obliges. I'm not sure he is always in the mood for pickles, but is doing his part to make sure that Ada's passion for pickles does not fade due to lack of encouragement.

The things we do for kids.