Fear factor - wimp style.

Today, Ken and I went to a wedding of an old friend of mine from school. It was a very casual "outdoor in the backyard affair" with lots of kids (ours not included). We were pretty excited to leave the kids at home in the care of my baby bro, my new sis and a couple of dogs (the boys thought they had died and gone to heaven). Ethan just told me that he had chips for lunch - yup, they had a great time.

So after this wedding, Ken and I decided to take full advantage and go out to eat. To a non-kid friendly place where you can take your time and not have to share any of your meal with anyone. Ken ordered a Thai chicken salad, but I knew as soon as I saw it that he wouldn't finish EVERYTHING on his plate. No, there were some cherry tomatoes on that salad, and as soon as Ken saw those, he pushed them off to the side and dug into the rest. Ken hates cherry tomatoes. He will eat regular tomatoes, roma tomatoes and, when I don't tell him, cherry tomatoes cut up into itty bitty pieces and mixed in with a pasta sauce. It is all in his head - when he was little, he was being looked after by a woman who made him and his sister eat cherry tomatoes. In fact, this woman would not let them leave the table until the the little red balls on the plate were all gone. There were some days that they didn't leave that table for hours. He has been scarred for life.

So I looked at those tomatoes, and I did what any caring, compassionate wife with no kids in tow would do - I dared him to eat them. Ken, not to be outdone, counter dared me with "if I eat these, you have to drink a glass of milk". Now that, I wasn't expecting. I have not had a glass of milk in almost 20 years. I HATE the stuff. Ice cream, bring it on. Cheese - LOVE it. Milk - the thought makes me want to just gag typing about it. So we negotiated back and forth until we came up with a compromise (yes, we have NO life). Ken would eat 4 cherry tomatoes, and I would drink as much milk as was in the glass of water in this picture. AND I got to pick which tomatoes he would eat.









Guess which tomatoes I told him he had to eat....





So like a man he did it - not without the theatrics though.








At the time of typing this, I have yet to drink my milk. I am sure Ken will take a picture to show the internet. And my mom.