little pink eating machine

For those of you who don't know, my boys (specifically sam and jake) don't eat. oh, if it's a dessert, they eat it. but if it has anything smelly (garlic, onions) anything saucy (enchiladas, spaghetti) or anything in a strange form (not balled up hamburger that's on daddy pizza, but flat hamburger on a bun, for example) it will not be eaten. These are the words typically found in our house:

"Mom, what is that disgusting smell?"
"Mom, that smells gross, I'm not eating that."
"Mom, what's in that?"
"Mom, do I like that?"
"Mom, I'm not eating that."
"Mom, you know I don't like that, why are making that?"
"Mom, is that Daddy dinner or kid dinner?"
"Mom, is there kid dinner tonight?"

For the most part, I have to exempt Will from these protests, though that has been of little comfort given the fact that Will used to eat dirt wherever he could find it. So, the fact that he liked my cooking wasn't really saying anything.

So imagine my surprise at being the mother of a little pink eating machine. Her first time in a restaurant she INHALED an entire big kids size portion of mac and cheese. She eats pancakes two-fisted. The other night I made chicken pot pie, it was pooh-poohed by boys who went to bed without dinner because there was no alternative kid dinner that night, and she ate hers and theirs. In addition, Abby eats like she knows something we don't - like the end is near and this is the last decent meal she'll ever eat. To illustrate, some mac and cheese photos, a la Abby: