My kid doesn’t like cheese. While this is in some ways a relief — I was dreading what seems to be the inevitable toddler mac-and-cheese habit, mostly because I would share it and lack his metabolism — it is in other ways disconcerting, as in, could this really be our child? Someone who doesn’t like cheese or sleeping late?
But lo and behold, recently we were at the park and a kid was eating goldfish crackers and shared some with Jacob, who proceeded to go nuts for them. We decided not to tell him there was (a nominal amount of) cheese in there, in the same way that we don’t tell him what’s schmeared on his beloved whole wheat bagel or stuffed in those blintzes he enjoys. I mean, he’s going to eventually think we’re killjoys either way, no need to rush his disdain.