Food

Hey Archer,

Turns out you love to eat. Mama taught you the signs for "more", "done", and though I can't prove it, I think she taught you a sign that means "Taylor Ham Pork Roll is disgusting" just to screw with me. She can hate on it all she wants but you, me, and Uncle Rattlesnake (code name, not an actual rattlesnake) are going to eat the shit out of some Taylor Ham egg & cheese sandwiches one of these days.

When I was your age I didn't eat like you do. Or rather, I don't think I did. Grandma doesn't seem to remember and Papa Petey isn't around any longer to fill in that gap. But considering the times, I probably had my fair share of jarred baby food and was on to cans of ravioli soon thereafter. It's just the way it was. Half the adults, or more, in this country likely inhaled a half pack of second hand smoke with each meal as well. I tried to name you Parliament, but like my other childhood-based name ideas (Schwinn, Swatch, Evil Knievel, Cavarrici, Beef Ramen) your mother didn't see the brilliance.

It's all good, though. Archer is a great name and you wear it well. But, I was talking about eating...

You eat as if Gywneth Paltrow's nutritionist partnered with the raspberry council and an Indian shaman on your menu. Lentils, nut butters (get your mind out of the gutter, pervert), eggplant, and garbanzo bean flour pancakes are common. You're personally putting a strain on the raspberry producers of america, and "is he supposed to be eating an entire sweet potato?" is a common question from those that help feed you. You usually start your meals in a delicate way, carefully selecting a single piece of something to try. But soon thereafter your hand turns into more of a ditch-digging shovel and the pace of the rest of your meal defies physics and kicks heartburn right in the nuts. If I ate like you for just two meals I'd either choke out or stroke out. It's impressive.

Here are a few food related points of interest from your first year...

• Eggs - One of my go-to dishes for your breakfast is a two egg omelette with a variety of vegetables inside. It's one of the few foods that you'll sometimes reach past raspberries to eat. I don't make it in the typical omelette shape. I go for more of a thick disc of egg so I can cut it into small pieces for you to grab and eat on your own. Sure, you could say I started cooking eggs that way because it didn't require me to physically feed you. But you could also say it was brilliant. That first omelette disc may have been the moment I truly became a dad. That or my first pun.
• Pancakes - You'll eat these in any style. It doesn't matter if we use garbanzo bean flour, buckwheat flour, or rice-a-roni. You love the shit out of a pancake no matter what it's made out of. It's a bonus if we add fruit. I made you a giant pancake for your first birthday and didn't cut it up because I was hoping you'd hulk-smash it. But no, you picked it apart piece by piece like a goddamn gentleman. You're already a better human than me and it's barely been a year.
• Berries - When I was a kid I, for who knows what reason, broke a classmate's finger. She was probably asking for it because I'm a lover not a fighter, but the exact details are lost to time. You're a loving, happy kid but if there's one thing I would bet on that could trigger your black rage it would be someone stealing your raspberries.
• Eggplant - It couldn't look more gross but you don't care. All credit goes to your mama for this one. I wouldn't have done it on my own. Too much time cutting and roasting just to compile soft (but healthy!) squares of food that resemble snot more than anything. 
• Sweet Potato - It was the first thing you ate and in between those first bites you would cry until we got the next spoon near your mouth. That love has not wavered. In fact, it honestly wouldn't surprise me if some day I returned home from a work trip right as dinner is being served and you stiff arm my hug attempt on your way to a plate of steaming hot sweet potato. 
• You've begun to sign for more food before you actually get started on the food you have. Because we don't always feed you everything at once (one part of your dish could be too hot still, or you've been playing with it too much so we're dishing it out slowly) it's like you want us to know that you aren't stupid. "Hey, big servants! You know this isn't going to be enough, right? You could fire up another pot of that goodness right now or you could let me get upset, and nobody feels like cleaning up a physics-defying shit that somehow travels straight up out of my diaper, do they? DO THEY?!?

Well, I've gotta run. NeeNee and Nay (the names you've given to your cousins) are sleeping over and everyone is expecting raspberry pancakes when they wake up and the way you've been housing food these past few weeks means I'll have to make a double batch. 

But before I go, some advice:

If you do decide to break another kid's finger, go for the pointer. You can get by easily without a pinky. Ring finger? Mostly for show. Middle fingers won't be important until you get older and start driving and dating. Even the thumb, which is my number two choice for snapping, isn't as important as your pointer finger. It's the focal point (pointer!) of every thing you do with your hand. It's how you pick your nose, the barrel of your hand guns (PEW! PEW! PEW!), and the only finger that can pull off sass. It's the star of the show when you use your hands to indicate sex.  You'll use it to stir things when you're too lazy to get a spoon and, I can't stress this enough, it's the finger you'll use over and over again to point at the slice of pizza you want from a restaurant so that you get the Arnold Shwarzenegger slice and not the Danny Devito one. That's a solid reference from the movie Twins, by the way. Movie quotes are going to be important in your life, but that's later. For now, just remember to go for the pointer.