Why T-Rex Is A Cannoli

#CLEARS THROAT#

This is the story of how T-Rex became a cannoli...


     Ammamay* made Latkes** for breakfast, which ended up causing mayhem amoung all of us young people.  T-rex is worried about trying some new food,  Jax took an extra, effectively stealing Emboo's allotment, which made her get in a frenzy, "MOOOOM, he stole my Latke!  Make him give it back!!!!"(Sheesh! "Now, Mummy, now!" Veruca? Is that really you?)  He ended up giving it back to her, wherein she, in turn, gave it to me. ("It's cold, you have it.  Also, it has sour cream.(she scrunches her face)")  
T-Rex's big, blue eyes grew huge.  "Can I have some, please?"

Hold up.

     ~"Please?"~

He said,  "please"  to me‽ This is serious.




 

      This kid is the pickiest of picky.  I mean plain-out choosey.  He has food he likes, and everything else.  A lot of everything else.  

     This is an Italian kid who won't touch Manicotti or Cannelloni.  He won't even eat Spaghetti if it has red sauce on it.




"Sure," I reply as I cut him a half.  
     "I can have half?"(I think I see tears in his eyes.)
     "Absolutely."

I give him the half with no bite in it, and I think he sort of creates a rift in time and space with his joy.
     "Thank you, AG!"
     And I get an actual, real-live hug from my nine-soon-to-be-ten-year-old brother, the Fourth Grader.  And girls have cooties.  I'm overjoyed(also, I have an entire Latke more then the rest of the sibs, so......      Nah, it's the hug.  Probably.)



     While my picky younger brother returns to his seat, Ammamay and I exchange a glance.  

     "Hey!  A food he actually likes!" from Jax.(snarky li'l Eighth Grader.)
We all laugh.  It's true, though.  It's hard to find a food he likes, much less a new one.***

      "He's a funny one," Ammamay puts in, "He won't try spaghetti and red sauce**!  I bet he'd have no problem if he'd just try it." This last part is said slightly more indignantly.  I mean, come on people, she makes the red stuff herself(with occasional help from Prego****).

      I join in, "He's an Italian who won't go near Ravioli**, Manicotti**, Cannelloni**."
      "And he won't touch anything with garlic!" she adds, "Are we sure he's Italian?"

     "I bet he wouldn't try a Cannoli**."


We pause for a beat.


      I crack a smile, "He is a Cannoli."
My comment puts Ammamay into another fit of laughter.

     "He is!" She says through her giggles.

     The blue-eyed T-Rex looks up at us from his plate.  His eyebrows are furrowed and he is very put-off.

     "Mamma, what's a Cannoli?"

     Nooooo!  I try to plead with my eyes, out loud-
     "Don't tell him!" I'm laughing.

     She doesn't heed me and instead concedes to the weaker party,
"It's an Italian dessert."

     "Oh," he says.  He was placated, but his arms remained crossed and his cheeks hadn't quite returned from red, mostly due to "Italian dessert" not being the answer he suspected.


In the end, a delicious breakfast and a funny story and a new name! Ta-da! 





*(my mother, this is how I refer to her, this side-note is for future reference)
**YUM~ 
***(I'm not giving him any credit here.  He's gotten much better.  Still, it usually feels like you have got to pry his jaws open to get him to try anything that he hasn't already tried.)
**** "Prego!" = "Thank you!" in Italian.


Yeah, I capitalize food.  It's respectful.