Hot Pockets

I know I promised pictures of the kids from Halloween, but hey, I also promised to be a reliable blogger.  So far I am 0/2.  Let's just move on, shall we?

One of the things that has most impressed David about being in 5th grade is that his classroom is in possession of a real live microwave.  And not only do they have a microwave, they are allowed to use it at lunchtime.  This, apparently, ranks right up there with a Nintendo Wii as the coolest thing ever.

Now, David is my child who eats next to nothing.  For years, every day for lunch I packed him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  Maybe once every six weeks I could throw in a bagel and cream cheese without upsetting the delicate balance.  (Once I tried giving him a cheese sandwich and when I asked him how he liked it, I was told, "Mom, don't you EVER do that again!")  This summer David discovered the heavenly goodness that is Nutella.  Sure, it's tantamount to giving him a chocolate sandwich, but it has some protein and fiber and, most importantly, it's not peanut butter and jelly. 

This fall, David began talking about Hot Pockets.  In return, I ignored him.  The Hot Pockets talk continued.  Did I not understand how cool it was to be able to take a Hot Pocket to school and wait your turn for the microwave?  It's so rare that he wants to introduce any new food, that I finally relented.  And bless his little heart, he knows his culinary limits and he told me he'd best try the first one at home to see if he even liked it.  He asked for the Four Cheese kind since he was sure any of the other ones would be too spicy.  The day I brought them home, he tried one and deemed it delicious.  On the one hand, I was happy he had tried something new.  On the other hand, a Hot Pocket?  Are you kidding me?

I let my kids choose hot lunch at school once a week.  Juliana will at least get a salad or carrots along with her entree, but David eats nothing in the way of fruits and vegetables except apples and the occasional grape (under duress).  According to him, all the apples at school are "rotten".  (Also, according to him, this one kid knew a kid who dropped his hot dog and it was so rubbery that it bounced back up and hit him in the eye.  If you could see how sincerely he tells this story, you would die from cuteness.) 

I debated with David for awhile over whether or not a Hot Pocket would count as his hot lunch for the week.  As much as he wanted the Hot Pocket, he wasn't quite willing to give up the pizza or nachos in return.  Finally I had a rare stroke of Parenting Genius.  I told him that if he wanted to have a Hot Pocket and a school hot lunch each week, he would need to introduce a new fruit or vegetable into his repertoire.  He immediately got up from where he was sitting, marched to the refrigerator, took out a baby carrot and put it in his mouth.  I watched in stunned amazement.  I could not have been more surprised had he opened fire with a shotgun.  He chewed twice, gagged, and spit the carrot back out.  So much for that breakthrough.

Eventually he agreed to eat bananas.  He also said yes to oranges.  The other night at dinner when I put apple slices, an orange wedge, and a few circles of banana on his plate was one of the most satisfying moments of motherhood.  And all thanks to Hot Pockets.

And here, for your enjoyment is Jim Gaffigan's routine all about Hot Pockets.