The Clean Plate Club
You know what stands between my son and dessert? His suspicious mind.
We’re caught in a trap
I can’t walk out
Because I love you too much baby
You must, I insist, must finish your sandwich. No, not the bones, too. Okay, okay, okay, throw them out on the grass for the squirrels. What happened to the boy who would say, “Do I like this, Mom?” (85% yes, 15% no, to retain believability).
Why can’t you see
What you’re doing to me
When you don’t believe a word I say?
Why don’t kids like breadcrusts? Who started it? What lurks in the mind of a child? Things I do not recall thinking and things that I will never understand.
We can’t go on together
With suspicious minds
And we can’t build our dreams
On suspicious minds
Suspicious minds. Were they born that way or have they been conditioned?
When honey, you know
I’ve never lied to you
Mmm yeah, yeah
Would I lie to you with dessert hanging in the balance? Hmmm? Mmm yeah yeah.
The lively, fanciful, talented Ritz pastry chefs put some sugar in my step. Yes sir. Trust from the depths of my sweet-leaning heart.
Here’s a little sugar from me, your ever-blogging, foodstyling, visioneer, foodist
For those who can’t be bothered to click on the link above, I am posting the ENTIRE (nearly) book right here. Smaller though. If you would like to actually READ it, I suggest using your mouse on the link above.
Oh, and, did I fail to give credit? And to take credit? We had a blast doing it.