The title of this post is often, though not always, the answer to the question posed in the title of the last post. Little Pookie likes to eat. Because of this, he is not so little anymore.
He still breastfeeds four times a day, but I’m not sure that mama’s milk is his favorite food anymore. Tomatoes have stolen his heart.
Saturday night we had a garden fresh dinner of steamed edamame, braised fingerling potatoes, and gazpacho. Pookie chowed down big time on the potatoes and edamame, eating almost as much as I did.
He uses his height to good advantage, getting up on his tip toes and stretching out his little arms to procure items of interest off the table.
He snagged a banana and chomped down, peel and all.
But the real trouble started when Matthew returned from the garden with a boatload of tomatoes (which I had foolishly offered to turn into sauce and can — more on that in a later post). We used our table to spread out the tomatoes, but realized our space was limited the center of the table after we found him double fisting fresh tomatoes.
I missed the actual photo op, but snapped the above after the fact, once I removed the smashed tomatoes from his fists and offered him a few cut-up bites as a replacement.
Unfortunately, the tomatoes on the table proved such a distraction at meal times that he had a hard time focusing on the food on his plate. Oh, little Pookie.