Saturday night at dinner, I made a big pot of broccoli for James and I, and planned on forcing the kids to have a bite too. I decided to wait until they wanted something yummy, and then pull the old, “after you’ve had a bite of broccoli” trick. Bribery and treats when eating vegetables are involved is the only way to go. Hell. Not even just vegetables. ANYTHING new.

I’m happy to say that after chipping away at Ethan’s stubborn refusal to eat ANYTHING that looks suspicious and foreign by eating it in front of him and making him taste it with cake and cookies for dessert as the reward, we have finally had success.

Unfornately I nearly wasn’t able to enjoy it because I about had a heart attack from the shock.

So I was happily eating my broccoli, when Jocelyn asked if she could have “a little tree broccoli.” It’s the first time she’s asked for it, but she’s eaten some before with little persuasion needed. This was a little shocking though, and it’s a good thing it happened, because maybe it helped cushion what was to come. “Sure,” I said, and handed over a little tree.

“Mommy,” Ethan asked politely, “could I have some broccoli please?”

My heart stopped. I mean STOPPED. But I kept moving my knife and fork the way I had already been moving it. I kept my eyes on my plate instead of letting them fly in shock from my son to my husband back to my son. I schooled my voice to keep a normal tone as I replied, “Sure,” in the same way I had said it to Jocelyn. I ignored the sharp tingling pain moving down my arm.

My. Son. Asked. For. Broccoli.

We did nothing, NOTHING to upset the precariousness of the situation. We remained totally blase through the actual experience, we didn’t even exchange a knowing look. Acknowledging a miracle, even to each other, may have forced the space-time continuum to jump back into alignment and then Ethan would have said, “Broccoli? BLECH! NEVER! I WILL NEVER! NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVVVVEEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRR!!! This mouth? Never gonna open.” It wasn’t until an HOUR after they were safely IN BED that I freaked out about it. I yelped and screamed and had a major cow to James. He looked at me in confusion until I managed to spit out, “BROCCOLI! HE ASKED FOR BROCCOLI!” and then he joined in the cow birthing with his disbelief. We laughed, we cried, we sat and remembered with WONDER.

Our son. ASKED. for broccoli.

Just OPENING HIS MOUTH readily as a fork laden with broccoli soaring through the air whilst it’s holder made airplane jet noises would have been miracle enough.

HE ASKED FOR BROCCOLI.

I may never recover from the shock.

I can only say, that there is hope for everyone. If Ethan asked for broccoli, then there is hope for everyone. We have had so many fights, timeouts, even one case of spanking, over food and refusal to even try it. If my son asks for broccoli, you too, can experience this miracle. Perserverance, my friends, is key. My son is 4, and I’ve been working on him steadily for the past.. oh, 2 years, I’d say, with phrases like, “If you don’t taste it, you won’t know if you like it.” and replies like, “Ok, you only have to have 1 bite”, or “I’ll make you something else, but you have to try that first.” or “OK, you don’t have to eat any of it, but then you won’t get a cookie for dessert,” or “no yogurt until you have 1 bite,” (to the statement, “BLECH THAT LOOKS GROSS.” or “YUCK, PEAS, I HATE PEAS.” or “CHICKEN?!? NOT IN NUGGET FORM?!? I’D RATHER CHEW MY OWN ARM OFF.” or “I MIGHT DIE IF I PUT THAT IN MY MOUTH!” or “I WILL NEVER, NEVER EVER CHANGE MY MIND! EEEEEEEEVEEEERRRR!”)

Seriously. Hell? It must be might cold down there about now.

Not only because my son asked for broccoli.

And then he ate it.