Corn on the Cob

Do you remember when you were a child and the very act of eating was fun? It had nothing to do with the particular food that was being consumed, but rather it had everything to do with the manner in which it was eaten. This must be a learned behavior that we teach our children from the time they first learn to chew. You've seen it with babies before. They refuse and refuse to open wide until the food suddenly travels to their mouths via a spoon that has magically morphed into an airplane that is ready to park in hangar. (As if a one-year-old even knows what a hangar is.) Once the food can fly, the child is ready to try anything.

As the child grows and learns to feed himself, he may try playing the same mental games with himself. My two daughters are clearly in this stage. I'm not sure how they got caught up in the corn on the cob fetish, but they did. They must have taken such a strong liking to the yellow veggie when they were young that they can now attack any food item from a corn perspective and enjoy it thoroughly.

I first noticed this the other day when we were out on a Daddy/Daughter day. Mommy was in need of some time without the girls and, since I happened to be the only other adult in the house at the time, I took the hint and offered to take them on a brief outing. After spending several minutes visiting our local herd of sheep and goats, we headed to the donut shop. It was there that the whole corn on the cob theory formulated in my mind. Maddie, the older of the two girls, was staring at the colorful donuts behind the glass. In my mind, I was willing her to choose the unglazed round donut. You know the one that I am talking about. It’s the one donut in the whole shop that has the lowest probability of making a mess all over a child's clothes. The absence of frosting, sprinkles, or sugar ensures that the only clean up necessary will be a quick brushing off of a few crumbs.

"Look at that pretty round one," I suggested. "It looks like a silly bald man." No response as she continued to peruse the rack.

Then her eyes lit up as she exclaimed, "Oooh! Look at that sugary one!"

"You mean the twisted one with all that messy sugar covering it?"

"Yeah. I like sugar," she replied with an unbeatable smile and a twinkle in her four-year-old eyes. How could I resist? So I placed an order for her sugary twisted mess and a plain, round donut for myself. As I took her donut out of the bag, I gave her several napkins to catch the sugar. This is where the corn theory comes in. With one hand on each end of the sugar twist, Maddie proceeded to nibble into the middle of the donut as if it were corn. She then twisted the donut slowly as she worked her way around, eating the top layer of the donut and leaving the "cob" behind.

"Maddie?" I asked. "What are you doing?"

"I'm eating all the sugar. Yummmmmm!" she said. And that was mostly true because she was indeed trying to eat all the sugar, but an equal amount had spread all over her face and clothes, just as I had expected. After observing her attack the donut like corn that day, I began to notice that this was not a one-time event. Nor was it limited to this particular daughter.

What else can be eaten like corn? I'll give you a quick list of some of the things I have seen my girls eat in this way. Use your imagination as you envision a young child attack these items as if they too had grown on a cob. If any of these things make you think of a mess, you must be a parent.

Tacos: First bite on the bottom, dead center.
Popsicle: Hold sideways and start in the middle
Tortillas: Roll it up, start in the middle. Unroll and peek through the hole.
Hamburger/Sandwich: Choose your point of entry and stick with it. Never eat anything to the left or right of that point of entry.
Ice Cream Cone: Turn sideways, skip the ice cream, and start with the flavorless, air-filled cone.

What else have you seen cobbified?