My heart sank when I heard the word from his iPad. “I’m sorry,” I told Philip. “We don’t have any blueberries.” This wasn’t completely true. There are blueberries in our freezer, the ones we picked ourselves at the end of the season. But Philip is not a wait-until-they-thaw kind of guy. He’s more of the I-want-it-right-now type. I needed to come up with an alternative. I opened the refrigerator to see what I could offer.
“All I have is this apple.” Philip grabbed it from me.
“We have to wash it first.” I carried it to the sink, peeled off the sticker, and rinsed the Granny Smith. Philip snatched it back and put his teeth to the green skin.
“Let me cut it for you.” He watched as I halved it on the cutting board. He took one half and began to gnaw. I sliced the rest and put it in his plastic bowl. When he put down the half to work on the wedges, I finished my chopping.
Philip ate the pieces like he does baby carrots: nibbles from each slice, the centers set aside. Half of the apple still remained, but I didn’t care. I was so happy to see Philip eat any of it. Except for the time he pretended to eat an apple at the grocery store, I’ve never seen him show any interest. It’s a big deal when Philip is willing to expand his food repertoire, especially when there is a fruit or vegetable involved.
My pride lasted until we went outside to play.
“Philip, stop putting gravel in your mouth!”
And I thought it was bad when he threw stones into the yard.