Ah yes. It’s happened again. Last night I found myself saying something (once again) that I’d never thought I’d have to say as a parent. It started with the turnips.

For dinner last night I made a stew from a wide variety of vegetables and root vegetables: carrots, potatoes, sweet potatoes, beets, delicata squash, mushrooms and turnips. I remembered not liking turnips when I was a kid but I thought I’d give them a shot, given that I’m all growed up now. The stew was DE-LISH. Except the effin’ turnips. Yep, I still don’t like them. They’re bitter and yucky.

Son #2 was inhaling his food making all kinds of approving noises when suddenly he froze, made a face and said “Ewwww! I just got something yucky and bitter.” “That would be the turnips.” I said, voice dripping with bitter disappointment that I didn’t like them either. Son #1 proudly announced that he had not gotten a bite of turnip. About a minute later I look over at son #2 who is bent over his food praying. “Okkkaaaaayyyy.” I thought. A little late for saying grace, but hey, he’s saying it. He opened his eyes and said “Mom, I accidentally stopped the clock at school today because I prayed for it to stop.” Oh, so sweet, Mama’s little Ghandi. I had nothing constructive to say to that except “Really?” Suddenly son #1 made a hacking, screeching sound and yelled “AGGGH! I got a turnip!!!!” Son #2 clapped his hands in delight, cracked up and said “Again my prayer came true!” Next thing I know BOTH of them have their heads bent over their plates asking God to give their brother a turnip. With God being the obliging fellow that he is, suddenly all our plates were full of turnips and the kids were taking turns alternating between hysterical laughter and praying. “ENOUGH!” I shouted “WE DO NOT PRAY FOR OUR BROTHER TO GET A TURNIP!!!!!” They both looked shocked, and then bent their heads back over their plates. “WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING?!” I demanded. And in unison they said “Praying for Daddy to get a turnip when he gets home.”

And if you were curious, the two Ghandis prayers came true when Steve was eating his dinner later and said “EW! Got a turnip. Uck. Bitter.”