Munch Ate Chicken Nuggets

And the heavens opened and an angel choir sang HALLELUJAH!!

What is a momentous event for me would be what some mothers would only call "dinner." Or, this would be a momentous event for them, say, a year or more ago.

My son is 2 years old. And he is a picky eater. At least at home. At daycare, he's been eating those nuggets for a year or more.

But those nine (NINE!) nuggets were the first morsels of meat Munch has eaten for me in his entire life. HIS ENTIRE LIFE!!

I've tried nuggets before. Usually, his father or I end up eating them after he turns his head away with no interest at all. Like, "Woman, seriously? You thought I'd eat THAT?"

Last night, with less than zero hope that he would do anything but push the plate away, I gave him three nuggets, cut into fours.

He sat on my lap and watched videos of "the baby" (himself) on my iPhone (a post on raising a potential narcissist to come at a later date).

Without batting an eye, he picked up a nugget.

I tensed and clenched my teeth, wanting to give no reaction that I cared in the least whether that chicken passed his lips.

He ate it.

And reached for another.

And another.

When those were gone, he asked for "mo." When another three nuggets were gone ... he asked ... for "mo." And he ate them.

Internally, I rejoiced! I wanted to scream out into the rainy night: MY SON ATE CHICKEN NUGGETS!!!!!! IRON, IT'S WHAT'S FOR DINNER!!!!!!

But, I made like it was the most normal moment of our lives, happens every day, will happen again tomorrow.

No biggie.

After all, it's just dinner.