Seriously, what kid does not like potato?
We're talking french fries, chips, crisps.
Mstr5 is going all Master Chef on me on a daily basis. FFS!?
He loathes roast potato. Will gag on it with a hurt, pleading look in his eyes while I stare him down. FFS!?
He loses his shit over mashed potato. We wage a Mexican Standoff over the dinner table while he places mashed potato the size of a pea in his mouth and blows his cheeks up as if his mouth is full, in an effort to fool me. FFS!?
And then sits there like that for TWENTY MINUTES, with one pea sized bite of mashed potato in his mouth. FFS!?
Meanwhile I am clock-watching and gradually losing my shit as this regular performance drags on and on. FFS!?
Give the kid french fries, chips, crisps - and he'll out-eat even his father. FFS!?
Because, according to Mstr5, they are not made from potato...they are made from potato. FFS!?
I've tried mixing his beloved peas and corn in the potato, and then watched him painstakingly remove each one and clean the mashed potato off, before eating them. FFS!?
I served up potato cakes and he didn't know what to do. His face was a mix of panic, confusion and terror as his love/hate potato relationship was taken to this new, unknown and unexpected level. FFS!?
It is a fucking potato.
How can you enjoy the exact same flavour fresh from the oven in chip form - but not roasted? FFS!?
It is simply a larger, slightly different shaped, version of the exact same bloody thing! FFS!?
It's not a texture issue, as he'll eat mashed pumpkin or carrot. FFS!?
It's not a flavour issue, as I've even tried drowning it in his beloved tomato sauce, mixing in his favourite cheese, everything. FFS!?
I had pretty much given up on him, and decided to fill his plate with more of the other vegetables and only a tiny bit of mashed or roasted potato (lest I let him think he's won and completely remove the offending carbohydrate). FFS!?
Last week Mstr5 decided he would eat mashed potato again. No FFS!?
But only if I made it special.
No problem, I'm desperate.
So I asked him how it was special that magical night when he deemed it delicious.
But he refuses to tell me. FFS!?
He looked at me over the top of his glasses, with his beautiful blue eyes, and said "you know Mum". FFS!?
He's totally screwing with me. FFS!?
He laughs like a sadistic little maniac when I serve it up and declare it special.
I then sweat on whether or not it is actually special.
Some nights it's cheese. Some nights it's tomato sauce. Most nights it's BLOODY NOTHING SPECIAL. FFS!?
It's like the kid is bored, or hasn't been particularly excited by anything on any given day, and so he creates his own entertainment via our ongoing potato feud. FFS!?
The delight on his angelic little face as he watches me slowly lose my shit when he deems that night's potato not special. Mini mofo. FFS!?
This goes on for up to 40 minutes before he finally gives in and says "Okay Mum (sigh)...alright Mum...(sigh)...I'll eat it, but only because you asked nicely....(mega sigh)".
And suddenly I'm thanking him.
THANKING HIM. FFS!?
He is turning my parenting methods around and using them against me. FFS!?
I did not pick him to be the cunning one. Least of all over the humble potato. FFS!?