William used to be a picky eater. He got better. Now he's winged right back around to the old behavior. After a five and a half hour drive, I was tired. His mother and Don brought a pizza over for supper.
Well, except for William. He doesn't like sausage on his pizza. "Pick it off," his mother told him.
He ate one slice of pizza. I knew where we were headed. Two hours after supper, he was, predictably, hungry.
I said, "We've already had supper, William. I'm not cooking a second supper for you. You can find yourself something to eat."
He wanted microwave Mac and Cheese.
"We don't have any," I said.
"Can't you go out and get some?"
"No William. If you are hungry, you can make yourself a sandwich. We've got peanut butter and jelly..."
"I'm not in the mood for something sweet."
"We've got roast beef. We've got three different kinds of cheese..."
"How old is that roast beef?" he asked suspiciously.
"William. grandpa got it out of the freezer. It's got an old date, but it perfectly fine."
He began to get dramatic and weepy.
I began to get mad.
"There's eggs. There's toast. There's tuna fish..."
"You only have Miracle Whip. I don't like Miracle Whip." A tear rolled down his face.
For God's sake! He's 11 years old. He was being stubborn. I began to get stubborn too. "William, supper is done. If you are hungry now, you need to figure out what you want to eat, because I am not jumping up to make a second supper. You can make whatever sandwich you want, You can have a bowl of cereal, but the flat fact of the matter is that if you don't eat what is put in front of you at supper, you don't get a second supper prepared for you."
"I want microwave Mac and Cheese. I'm going to ask Grandpa to get it for me."
I was tired, and I was running short on tolerance for nonsense. "No one is running out to get you microwaveable Mac and Cheese. Totally not kidding. For a kid who is starving to death you are pretty damned picky. I guess you're going to go to bed hungry tonight, and you've got no one to blame but your own stubborn self."
He flung himself to the stairs and cried for quite some time.
In the end, he went to the kitchen and fixed himself something to eat. He's now sitting in the livingroom watching television with his grandfather. The storm has passed.
I keep telling myself that he was probably tired too, but two meltdowns in two days is getting pretty tiresome.
WTH is this???????
Late edit: reading about adolescent boys, I've answered my own questions.