What Does He Love?

I ran into an old friend at the swimming pool the other day. We’d spent a lot time together in high school and college, a lot of it around swimming pools, so it was funny to run into him in that setting after not having seen him in several years. He was with his four year old son, and I was with Henry, who is now 18 months old. My friend didn’t know I’d had a child, and he just sort of shook his head with the awe that parenting sparks in reflective people.

Can you believe it? he asked, in a general way.

Then, What is he like?, in reference to Henry. We looked down at him, as he was plowing around through the foot-deep water with an extreme purpose: joy collecting.”Well, I guess he loves the water,” my friend commented. “What else does he love?”

That would be: anything with a beat he can dance to, and that includes the microwave or coffeemaker when they have completed their tasks, and even the refrigerator, if you leave the door open for long enough and it is trying to get your attention.

The refrigerator has no problem at all getting Henry’s attention. “He loves food, too,” I explained. “That is evident by looking at him,” the friend said.

Henry is . . .solid  . . .  these days, but he’s becoming more and more picky. But these are the things on the list at the moment:

1. roasted asparagus spears

2. watermelon on the rind

3. fresh corn, the cob of which he likes to suck and chew like a hobo

4. decaf iced lattes (I try to limit this. I do. And at least that baby who smokes is not mine.)

5. plain yogurt blended with milk, ice, and banana

See, for the most part, he eats like a Hollywood type. You know, egg-white omelets and all, though he would never eat an egg. Or an egg white. Or an omelette. But then there is the flip side to all of these healthy food:

6. pizza

and his new favorite thing:

7. butter

And this is where we get to the nut of my story: really, I just want to brag about how my child loves butter, because I somehow find enthusiasm one of the most charming qualities. And butter one of the most delicious and awe-worthy natural elements to come from a cow.

I’ve tried to put butter on things for Henry before, but except for a buttery toast phase when he just started to eat solids, he has not been too interested. “MO,” he has roared. To be clear, that’s not “more,” which is indicated by high-velocity headnodding and “m-muh? m-muh?” Instead, roaring “MO,” means “no,” and his point is clear, as he waves it away like a self-important actor smacking a paparazzo’s camera to the ground.

However, all that changed when he discovered the wonder of butter last week: European butter in a fancy little blue ramekin. He spied it on the table and invited it into the small inner circle of things he will eat.

Great!

However, he has decided to treat it as a food, rather than a condiment. As in, I am not in the mood for this bread, which I find rather dry. But I’d love a handful of butter, or three. Thanks for taking care of me!

Well, I’m working on it.