Tastes Just Like Pizza

My son is much too clever. Today, our cook had prepared dinner and left it in the oven. She made her specialty: spinach quiche. She makes her own dough and the spinach was fresh from our backyard. She adds some cheese, some eggs, some cream and some nutmeg. It was what I was looking forward to all day. Gusi, well, he's a different story.

Gusi has never been a big fan of quiche since we got to Senegal. He'd eat it back home if we were at a restaurant, but I'm about 0 for 38 in getting him to eat it here. Before we hired Viviane I would make the quiches, but since I've had morning sickness non-stop since the holidays, I consider myself lucky to have her. She makes all of our meals and even though her repertoire leaned towards more French cuisine, with us she's learned how to make sushi, scones and chili with a side of cornbread--a wide range needless to say.

So tonight as we started dinner without PapaGus who was stuck in the office, I pulled out the quiche from the oven and started to slice it. This is what ensued (translated from Spanish).

Gusi: Mami, is that pizza?

Me: Yes Gusi it is. Bold faced lies will get me nowhere with this child.

Gusi: Yumm, Mami, pizza!

Me: Yeah sweetie, a special pizza that Viviane made.

Gusi: Yumm.

As I plate up a slice of the quiche and put his plate in front of him. He eyeball's it carefully.

Gusi: Mami, is it pizza or quiche?

Me: Look Gusi, yummy pizza!

Gusi: Mami? Pizza or quiche?

Me: Pizza! Big smile.

Gusi: No Mami, it's not pizza, it's quiche. Gusi doesn't want any.

Me: Gusi, have a little bit. Oh, look, a crayon! You can color on Papi's newspaper!

Gusi: Crayon, yeah Mami! Color!

I sneak a piece of quiche into his mouth.

Me: Gusi, what a nice picture you're drawing!

As I successfully get a piece into his mouth, he realizes what's happened and looks to make eye contact with me, I look away.

Gusi: Mami, hand. Hand, Mami please.

Me: Huh?

I reach out my hand and Gusi proceeds to spit the quiche into it.

Gusi: No, Mami, it's quiche.

Me: Would you like the last of the grapes Mami brought from London?

Gusi: Yumm, grapes!

And that's how I failed to out smart the boy and he got away with eating only grapes for dinner.