Baby food

It's gross. I guess I had always thought it was gross, but now thanks to dear Scott and Carlie, I know. They very kindly threw us a baby shower over the weekend, and it was lots of fun. It was particularly fun for everyone else when Kerry and I got to eat mystery baby food and try to guess the flavors. In fairness, there were some (banana, cinnamon apple) that weren't repulsive, even if they weren't the finest presentation ever of their original foods. But the green beans (identified by me as broccoli and by Kerry as peas) were terrible. The chicken sticks, which looked like nothing so much as little, nail-less fingers, were pretty bad, too, their unsettling appearance complemented by an unsettling texture that was somehow both crumbly and wet. But the worst was probably the mac and cheese, the smooth mac and cheese that tasted like paste, if paste were a punishment for one of the seven deadly sins. Ugh. I can almost sense it again in my mouth, just thinking about it. That is a bad thing.