The Experience of Eating with Noah
While there are many things I have to worry about with Noah, his love for eating is not one of them. He has often been described as belligerent at the table by his aunties. He loves to grab his food off the table with authority, throw his head back and smash hand fulls of food into his face with gusto. He does the same with his water cup. Head flies back, water cup held with both hands, chugging. Sometimes he’ll grab ten blueberries at a time. He ain’t scared, but I am…because most of the time those situations result in a grizzly bear poop. He’s the friend you hate to eat popcorn with. You watch them grab fistfuls and face-smash it, kernels falling into their lap. Noah's passion for food is a favourite quality by many in his life. My friend Michone (Plowgirl Farm) revels in the fact that Noah will grab salad and stuff it in his gullet. He’s often been described as a hummatarian, not to be confused with a humanitarian. He could live days eating hummus alone.
He’s not generally picky and will give anything a try. That was until I tricked him one day and put cough syrup in his oatmeal. For months after that affair, he would follow the spoon to his mouth making himself cross-eyed. Once the spoon got close enough to his mouth he would stick his tongue out ever so slightly and jut his head back, giving himself the most spectacular double chin. This was his new method of testing the food before we gave it to him. Josh was trying to feed him one morning and was getting exhausted by Noah’s new found skepticism. He turned and looked me dead in the eyes and said, “you ruined him.” If you do give him something he doesn’t like, he will make un-wavering eye contact with you, slyly reach his hand to his mouth, grab the food, and drop the food between his legs onto the floor. All without breaking eye contact. He obviously hasn’t learned about peripheral vision yet. To let you know he is done with his water, he chucks it off the table with a follow through that rivals NBA players.
I admire Noah for doing everything in his life to the fullest. He leaves nothing on the table (literally and figuratively) and you always know where he stands, charging into life. His zest for life is contagious and he makes any event funny. Noah’s constantly reminding me to appreciate the small things. He loves when everyone is gathered around the table and used to cry before Josh and I sat down, smiling as soon as we were all seated. He understands the community food can create. He understands the gathering, the sharing, the thankfulness that surrounds a meal.
