Today at lunch, while chewing on her drumstick, Leah said to me, "I want to grow chicken in the ground."
Whereupon I said, "Chicken doesn't grow in the ground."
"Where does chicken come from?"
"From an animal."
"Which animal?"
"Chickens."
Loooong pause.
"How does a chicken make chicken?" Natalie piped up.
"Chickens don't make chicken; chickens are chicken. We eat the body of a chicken. The part you're eating is the leg of the chicken. It has bones in it just like your leg."
So we'll let that simmer and see what comes of it. I don't have a problem with vegetarianism, mostly because I think it's more healthful and it's cheaper. But my husband likes meat, so if I end up with three diehard non-meat eaters, it will be two separate entrees every night for a while, I guess. At least until they're old enough to make their own food (which is what my mom had me do when I wanted to be a vegetarian). Alternatively, I guess, he could make his own dinner each night, since he'd be the odd man out!
My friend's daughter, who up to this point was an avid meat eater, sat causally watching her mother make supper. My friend had just stuffed a chicken and was about to put the pan in the oven when her daughter suddenly yelled "what is that?" "It's chicken, we eat it all the time" "It looks like a baby!" came the horrified reply. The daughter no longer eats anything "that had a face or a mother". Another vegetarian is born.
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