So Stella busted me fibbing this weekend. It was one of those stupid things. I was making chicken and cheese quesadillas for Sunday lunch. I had actually bought some fancy tortillas: nice and soft with a lovely green color and spinach flavor. Usually I just use the little cheap ones that are about 75 for $2. Basic, no frills, and holy moly those things stay good forever in the fridge. They make Twinkies seem perishable.
Anyway. Quesadillas. Yeah.
I honestly figured Stella wouldn’t be all that keen on them. She’s eaten them before, but only grudgingly or while in a highly distracted state. So I gave her some grated cheese, chicken, and a peanut butter sandwich.
When the adults finally sat down alongside the kids to eat, Stella seemed crestfallen. She demanded white quesadillas. That’s where I fibbed. I said we didn’t have any white tortillas, but hey if green eggs are good (we have that a lot for breakfast with ham, of course), green quesadillas were also awesome and extra delicious. No sale.
Later on after dinner, Stella was shopping in the fridge. She found the cheap white tortillas. She looked at me accusingly and said,”white quesadillas, mommy.”
Lunch fail. Parenting fail.