on Produce

March 27, 2009 at 12:10 am 6 comments

Fair warning.
This story has with a moral.
The moral of this story is: if you ever have a chance to go grocery shopping with a pre-schooler who is really excited about rutabaga, take it.

This story begins with a long-but-worth-it weekend of travelling to see friends and family. Good times all around– but the regular Saturday morning grocery shopping trip just didn’t happen. So, since my husband generally enjoys food, and since he was planning to start and end his workday earlier than usual, he agreed to do some grocery shopping on the way home. I wanted to make a stew, so I asked him to pick up some things that aren’t on the usual list, including a rutabaga.

He came home with an abundance of wonderful things to eat. But no rutabaga. It seems the rutabagas available at Nearby Grocery Store A were wizened and sad and he couldn’t bring himself to purchase one.

But, still, many wonderful things to eat. So 3-year-old Ruth and I set about putting away the groceries. I get a huge kick out of watching this child’s developing relationship with food. As I work at putting away long-ingrained ideas about ‘good’ and ‘bad’ foods, and listen to my body’s cues about hunger, she’s a natural expert.

Mommy! Daddy got yummy blueberries!
Mommy! Crackers! Daddy got crackers at the grocery store!
Noodles, mommy! These go in the cupboard.

Somehow, through her eyes, food is an absolute, unabashed delight. Each item was carefully removed from a bag, and exclaimed over, and carried gingerly to either the fridge of the pantry cupboard, and stowed safely away. She does this fairly often, and it amazes me the sorts of food she recognizes.

After dinner, I invited her for a walk to the grocery store with me– for a Rutabaga. I’m incredibly fortunate to have not one, but TWO major grocery stores in easy walking distance from my home. (Park? no. Good school? no. Grocery stores? yes.) So we headed off to Nearby Grocery Store B. All along our walk down the hill, and through the aisles of the store, Ruth sang:

“Rutabaga Rutabaga Rutabaga”

We found some root veggies in reasonable condition, she insisted on carrying the thing, clutched to her chest, to the check-out. The underpaid teen at the cash cracked a smile as Ruth informed him “We need a rutabaga”. She conceded that I could, perhaps, carry our purchase home.

The stew was awesome.


Entry filed under: Uncategorized.

She wants a Big Fattie Ontology

6 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Twistie  |  March 27, 2009 at 1:34 am

    (squishes Ruth)

    Would that we could all retain that delight in the simple pleasures of good food.

    Then again, I’ve been known to stifle a squeal of delight when I find the first good berries of the season at the grocery store. I’m on a first-name basis with the guys who handle the veggies and half the guys behind the butchers’ counter at my neighborhood grocery, and I love it.

  • 2. April D  |  March 27, 2009 at 7:22 am

    I am totally gonna have “Rutabaga rutabaga rutabaga” stuck in my head all day now 😉 Sometimes it is amazing what children can teach US about the wonderful things in life.

  • 3. Limor  |  March 27, 2009 at 7:47 am

    That is such a sweet story. Charlotte is just now getting into helping to put the groceries away, and she also gets really excited about going to the grocery store. It’s such a gift to be able to see the world through their eyes.

  • 4. jodi  |  March 27, 2009 at 10:36 am

    We used to just cruise the Airport Line between Crediton Road and Exeter, scanning the ditches for rutabagas that had fallen off the trucks. What joy whenever we spotted one.

  • 5. RoseCampion  |  March 27, 2009 at 3:11 pm

    Oh, rutabagas. I love mashed rutabaga, but the husband doesn’t so I don’t make it very often. It just doesn’t seem worth it to make it just for me. I should though. I deserve rutabagas, don’t ?

  • 6. wellroundedtype2  |  March 27, 2009 at 8:05 pm

    My little one, now 4, is sadly past this excited unpacking the groceries stage. (Maybe it won’t be a stage with Ruth but last well into her double digits).
    I did have the pleasure of being told about what she’s going to dream tonight, and now she’s covered entirely in a transportation oriented stickers. And soon I’ll be covered entirely in transportation oriented stickers (there’s a parachute on my forearm and my left breast looks like a busy airport.

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