I'm a wing girl, a super spicy wing girl who has a near inappropriate love affair with Monday night wing nights. Because we're legally bonded my husband obliges this one habit (as clearly this is my only one...) and during football season going out for wing night actually constitutes as dinnertime. Even once Ash came along, when you'd think providing a healthy well balanced meal for our son would take priority, wing night still occasionally wins out and we head to the local establishment for our $0.35 indulgence. Thankfully the kids menu is a titch better than most and serves apple sauce and milk alongside the entree of your choice in an adorable little cardboard boat.
But until now the wings were all mommy and daddy and the pasta filled boat was all Ashton (well, aside from that one time a few weeks ago when Ash shoveled spoonful after spoonful of mommy's REALLY spicy wing sauce into his mouth and just kept smiling saying "nummy spicy soup"). Then the day came when we decided (following the wing sauce soup incident) that just maybe he was ready to join in, for real, in wing night bliss. We ordered him his own cardboard boat full of wings, and when the waitress politely looked at me and said "and those will be plain wings for the boy?" I politely looked at her and said "nope, make'em saucy and slightly spicy please". And they did. And he ate them. Every single one, lipsmacking and bonesucking his way through all 5 spicy chicken wings. My wing boy.
So, not only has Ash been witness to a playfully unhealthy semi-weekly habit of mommy and daddy (mommy) but now he's officially joined the team. Unfortunately there is no photographic proof of his induction into wing night, as after all, we did order a two year old a boat full of saucy spicy wings which pretty much explains on it's own why the camera phone was off limits and tucked safely away from potential splattering.
The next habit we plan to share may as well train him to celebrate Christmas in July and book flights impulsively. Oh wait...