Creamed. Corn. Who thinks this is a food? Not me. It's one of the few "vegetable-type" foods (more on this later) that I find completely disgusting. And I like brussel sprouts.
I remember liking it (creamed corn) when I was 3. After that, not so much.
I hate the consistency. The noise it makes coming out of the can and hitting the bowl.
Creamed corn to me says, "I've given up on adulthood."
Creamed corn says, "I don't care what I put in my mouth, or what it looks like, so long as there is substantially little difference between how it looks before I eat it and about an hour after I eat it."
That's all I'm going to say about creamed corn.
Except this: I've started packing Sweet Baboo's lunches for him (I know: AWWWWWW) and since he is training for another 100-miler, they include a sandwich, a vegetable, a fat-free pudding cup, some sort of fruit, and 2 cookies or a small cup of chips.
(This places me dangeously in the "June Cleaver" category, I know. I console myself with the knowledge that June, if manifested in the flesh, wouldn't kiss her husband goodbye, head out to run 8 miles and then come in to write a paper for law class. Also, Ward wasn't training for a hundred-miler.)
Uh-huh. What else?
"Corn--I know, 'corn is not a vegetable' but I like it."
Go on. (Using my 'listening' skills here...)
"Beets, carrots, lima beans...um...green beans, but only once in a while, you know?"
So I perused the store shelves, tossing lima beans, peas, corn, mixed vegetables, beets into my cart...oh, look at this! Creamed corn. I know without checking that he loves him some creamed corn--I've never met a man who didn't. One of the things that I appreciate so much about Sweet Baboo is that, although some (his mother) might characterize him as a fussy eater, there are two great truths to his eating: first, he'll eat the same entree 2 or 3 days in a row and not get bored, and second, he loves simple things. Jell-o. Beets. Creamed corn.
So I bought some. Bought two cans of what is, in my opinion: gruel. This morning, I emptied one into the small rubbermaid container that I use for packing vegetables for himself. I had to turn away as it sllluurrrppped out of the can into the plastic dish.
Of course, Sweet Baboo was very pleased.
Sweet Baboo mentioned that he never realized until we moved to the new house and all the kids were gone how little I actually train.