"Call Me Whatever You Want, But Don't Call Me Late For Dinner!"

Watching my kids eat lunch today and pondering their differences.  In contrast to his older brother and younger sister, Thing Two does not mess around when it comes to food: when a plate is placed in front of him, he systematically and efficiently devours everything on it, largely ignoring all conversation going on around him unless he's directly addressed.  And he's always, always asking for food!  The child never stops moving, so he needs all the fuel he can get.  He's invariably the one asking me what I'm making for dinner, even though my stock answer to that dreaded question is "Elephants' toes with strawberry sauce."

My grandfather was a big redheaded and rawboned Midwestern Irishman, a college football player in the 1920s.   I'm told that there was not a lot of ceremony around eating in his family growing up--they were a kind of embodiment of the old tongue-in cheek grace, "Father, Son and Holy Ghost, who eats the fastest gets the most!"  The title line is one I remember Grandpa saying on multiple occasions...he was not about to miss out on food.  (And I don't remember him ever being overweight, so maybe he had a metabolism like Thing Two's.)  When my mother first started dating my father, Grandpa would wade into the action surrounding whatever was on the table and make her a plate, fearing that she was going to starve out of timidity otherwise!

My grandfather never met any of my kids--sadly, he passed away when I was 15.  But I like to think that in Thing Two, he would have recognized a kindred spirit!  And I smile every time Thing Two makes me think about him, because his legacy lives on in this young and perpetually hungry great-grandson.  Miss you, Grandpa...