One Little Bite

"You have to try at least one bite."

These are the words that only mothers should get to say. These are not the words to be spoken by an 8 year old boy TO his mother, with his father sitting close by with a smug grin on his face.
These words also shouldn't be spoken to a mother who has an extremely weak stomach when it comes to gross food. Just not good.

It all started with a duck. One measly duck that Kirk killed while duck hunting this past weekend with a buddy.

It has been sitting in my fridge since Saturday just waiting to be cooked up. Last night seemed like a good night for duck on the table, since we had a huge pot of roast left over and I knew I could eat that....because I knew that I wouldn't eat the duck. I just knew.

See....I don't like any kind of wild game. I don't mind it being dressed or cooked in my kitchen, just don't make me eat it. The only wild game I'll eat is deer....and only then if it is ground. No deer steak. No squirrel. No rabbit. No thank you.

Kirk fried up the duck, because we decided that everything is good fried (well, not for me, but for my fellas), and we sat down to dinner.

I heaped my plate full of roast, carrots, and potatoes, and watched as my boys all eagerly tried the duck, very proud of their courage in trying something new....especially when they so closely relate a duck with their beloved cartoon character, Daffy. My boys are terrors when it comes to trying a new vegetable or other side dish, but if it comes from an animal and is fried....they'll eat it.

They gobbled up the stuff. Duck...check...one more meat that my kids will eat. Great.

Then.......

Keaton says, "Mom, you always tell us that we have to try one bite. You have to try at least one bite."

I pretend like I didn't hear him as I became totally engrossed in forking a carrot on my plate.

"What's that?" I finally ask under my breathe.

"One bite. You have to try it."

"Oh, Mom doesn't like duck. Thanks, though."

*Kirk is snickering and giving me sideways glances, trying not to let his duck come out his nose.*

And then he (the husband) says, "Yah, Mom, you need to try at least one bite."

*Ooooohhhhh....if looks could kill, we'd all have a funeral to attend.*

After muttering ugly things to my husband (who is still sitting with a ridiculous grin on his face), I agree.

I took ONE bite.....

And threw up a little bit in my mouth.