A Thirteenth Birthday Meal

     Page Fifty-Eight.
     Tomorrow is the 13th birthday of one of the boys whom I currently nanny. For his birthday meal, Zok has asked me to make him homemade chicken noodle soup and homemade pretzels with a rosemary cheese dipping sauce. Is this a joke? What 13 year old boy asks for things like that? Boys who I nanny, that's who. Their grandmother has accused me one thousand times of spoiling them. I always tell her that spoiling them is my job, but this is ridiculous.
     Right now, I have the soup cooking on my stove. Real, homemade chicken noodle soup is a two day affair, so I'll simply bring the finished product with me. It'll be easier that way. (Eventually, I'll put my recipe for the soup in this blog, but for now, all you need to know is: it is very time consuming and expensive.)
     But, anyhow, what ever happened to 13 year old boys wanting really great Chicken Tetrazini or fresh, homemade lasagne or even homemade pizza? (All these are things I make great, by the way.) At least the little one, Fauntleroy, who'll be 9 this summer, is consistent. Every year he wants Belgian Waffles and Baked Alaska for his birthday. Lord help me when the middle one, Billy-Bob-Joe, turns 11 in a month. He's the pickiest. He's the way I was when I was a kid, virtually impossible. Interestingly, I successfully introduced him, of all people, to caviar. Nobody else will touch the stuff but he loves it.
     I've been with these boys for almost two and a half years now and feeding them has gotten easier and more difficult, simultaneously. I've introduced much new food and homemade versions of old food. It's gotten easier because of the occasional success I have with introducing new dishes. It's more difficult because as I bring in new things, they no longer want the old, easier versions of those things. For example, Lord help me if I were to open a can of chicken noodle soup and present it to Zok for his birthday meal. No! no! no! Only homemade will do.(With homemade pretzels with rosemary cheese dipping sauce. How dysfunctional is that?) Maybe I'm just complaining and being lazy, but I promise you he never had homemade chicken soup in his life until I showed up.
     The fact is, on the rare occasions when I make grilled cheese sandwiches with Tots and salad, they're thrilled. And Mom has told me a few times that I can relax a little with the food. But, I can't. It's not in my nature. Of course, I'm spoiling them. But, that's okay.