Amanda Miller
Columnist
Lettuce Eat Local
There are a lot of things you find yourself saying to your children that you never anticipated. Words that we can assume have never been strung together before — except perhaps by other parents — come out of our mouths, spoken appropriately for the situation at hand but also are so weird. What on earth, you wonder, as you shake your head.
I of course can’t think of many examples right now, but dirty feet and boogers feature prominently as topics. I do have a four-year-old boy, so I shouldn’t type out a lot of the ones I can remember. But most are just random and unexpectedly necessary, like “Why are you kissing that plastic bag?” “Yes, this is dead cow pizza,” “I guess Jesus might have been fatter than that dog,” “Next time don’t put the watermelon down your dress,” and “No, I know Kiah’s head is soft and warm, but we did not take it off and put it in the microwave.” Or of course, the classic “please stop putting ketchup on your ___ (insert any food item or body part here).”
Lately I’ve been having to tell Kiah with unforeseen regularity that things are not Papa, an apple, or Bob. What? Your brother is not an apple. Papa (Grandpa) is not in the fridge! And who even is this Bob guy?
She is hilarious, and she knows it, so she knows when she’s being silly. At least I think so most of the time, but sometimes it’s hard to tell. We can’t see what all is going on in her 21-month-old brain, and I’m sure her inferences make sense to her.
The kids helped me pick “apples” off our plum tree last week, and clearly Kiah wasn’t far off with her designation of the fruit even though she was simultaneously completely wrong. I don’t have any idea where her fascination with Bob came from, but she named her golden retriever stuffie Mav and we go along with it, so really, why shouldn’t she name her little pink chair Bob? [Every time she walks around giggling and calling random things Bob, I have to respond in that annoying voice, “Bob? Bob? I don’t know no Bob!” — any other VeggieTales fans know what I’m talking about?]
I thought Ki hadn’t been listening when I was reading a library book to Benson, but she came tearing over to jab enthusiastically at the page, yelling “Papa!” That one made sense, since the character’s name was Papa Pirate: humorous, too, since it is rare that I compare my father-in-law to a bushy-black-haired seafaring pirate with crazy gold teeth, flowing beard, and glistening sword. It made less sense a few days later in the middle of a completely un-Papa-y book when I had to tell her, “No, Papa is not a dragon,” regardless of her insistence and glee. At least the other people in the store enjoyed hearing me say it.
As she continues to exercise her growing vocabulary, Kiah will continue to entertain us, I’m sure. Even the way she says all these words is incredibly endearing — I wish you could hear her adorable inflection with apple (ap-pbbbbbul!). I’m biased, I know, but even after all the pirate and dragon talk, so is Papa (and Bob, I can only assume).
A is for Apbbbulsauce Candy
CANDY is of course another of Kiah’s favorite words, so why not call this apple-y snack candy? I saw this unusual recipe in one of my cookbooks from the 70s, and this seemed like a good excuse to make it; I changed a few things, and if I make it again, I’d modify it to use plain gelatin to reduce sugar and dye — but we’ll have to see what Bob says about it first. Appropriately, Kiah declined to try it and wanted an apple instead.
Prep tips: we used strawberry gelatin because that’s what I had, but this could work with a variety of flavors.
1 cup unsweetened applesauce
1 cup sugar
3 oz strawberry-flavored gelatin [1 standard package]
1 cup finely chopped pecans
Heat applesauce and sugar in a small saucepan; boil for a couple minutes. Remove from heat and dissolve in jello, then stir in pecans. Pour into an 8×8” dish, cover, and chill until set. You’re supposed to be able to cut it into cubes, but it was still soft and sticky for me; so I guess it’s spoon candy?
