
Picky Eater
Two women were preparing a meal while they watched their young children play.
“My Iris is such a good eater,†one mother said. “Yesterday after she’d finished nursing, she toddled over and stole a bit of meat from her father. I gave her a piece of her own, and she ate the whole thing.â€
The other mother replied, “I wish my Jojo was a good eater. My milk is drying up, but he still won’t start eating solid food. Even if I mash berries for him, he makes a terrible face and spits it all out. And he’s so small and thin.â€
“Don’t worry. I’m sure by next summer, he’ll be eating everything you give him. He’s just too young right now.â€
“No, he’s the same age as your Iris. They were both born three springs ago.â€
“Oh, you’re right. Well, some children are picky. I remember my brother fussing if there was the least bit of ash in his meat. My mother used to have to brush his portions clean. I don’t think he got over that until he was hunting for himself.â€
“At least he survived. I’m not sure Jojo will last the winter. We have so much food now, I need to fatten him up. And I suspect my milk is drying up because I’ll be having another baby in the spring.â€
The other woman placed a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Don’t give up yet. The grandmother in the next village keeps a supply of dried blue flower root. That’s what kept my cousin alive after she drank bad water and was so sick.â€
“Blue flower root. I haven’t had that since I was a girl. I remember how sweet it tastes.â€
“Children love sweet things. You add that to Jojo’s berries and his meat, I guarantee that he’ll start eating.â€
The Story 365 project is a year-long marathon of short story writing, with a new story for every day of the year and posted on this website from May 1, 2011 – April 30, 2012. Stories must be a minimum of 200 words. Please help me by adding first line or topic suggestions in the Comment section of any story. If you’d like me to use your name in a story, I’d be happy to do that.
This tale came about after a discussion with some friends about small children’s eating habits. We wondered if primitive mothers had to deal with the same thing, and we were pretty sure that they did.