Have you ever had a picky eater?  This poem, Mama Jemima and her Picky Eater Dollies, was born out of my recent frustration trying to feed our teething son something resembling a balanced diet.  He has several two-year molars halfway through, and the only things he consistently eats are wieners and baby mush; all bets are off for anything else. 

Recently I made mashed potatoes, keeping several whole potatoes separate on the assumption that mashed potatoes would look too suspicious.  I gave our three-year-old daughter a potato-y beater to lick, and whaddya know, little mister wanted one too!  When I offered him some in a bowl, he eyed the blob with suspicion until he was fully convinced it was just more of more of the same stuff.  We take meals on a case-by-case basis around here.  If you have any tips for sneaking nutrients into your picky eaters, feel free to share in the comments!

Disclaimer: I don’t actually recommend telling lies when utilizing reverse psychology, but I’ve definitely resorted to using subtler forms of this strategy! 

Mama Jemima and her Picky Eater Dollies

There once was a girl named Jemima Jean,

Whose family of dollies thought she was mean. 

When she fed them all spinach, they threw it away, 

So she served it again, the very next day. 

They howled and yowled and stompled their feet, 

But Mama Jemima was tricky to beat. 

She baked it in brownies and other good treats, 

But still, all her dollies would squirm in their seats. 

With snoots in the air, they would shove it aside. 

The spinach was stringy, and tricky to hide. 

So into a smoothie went spinach, with milk,

And berries, all blended as creamy as silk. 

But the dollies just spewed out the stuff with a snort;

They’d have nothing to do with a drink of that sort!

Poor Mama Jemima had had quite enough. 

“They need to be eating this healthy green stuff!”

To hide it, she’d tried every way that she knew,

So her best option left was to try something new. 

She mounded fresh spinach up high on her plate, 

And she chuckled and plotted her plan.  “Just you wait!”

She tasted a morsel.  “Ahh, simply divine.”

Then she said to her dollies, “This salad is mine!

“And you won’t see me sharing, no matter your gripes.

No matter your fuss, and no matter your hype.”

Then they thought, “Wait a minute, what’s this all about?

She won’t share her salad?  Well, that’s worth a pout!”

So they howled for spinach and stompled their feet,

While their mama just smiled.  They’d finally been beat. 

The dollies were pleading, they begged for a bite,

And Jemima reluctantly shared.  “Oh, all right.”

The dolls ate the spinach, they shoveled it in, 

While Mama Jemima just watched with a grin. 

They emptied the salad.  “Please make us some more!

Why haven’t you made this stuff ever before?”