The Pepperoni Stinks

This week, my son turned 12. Since we are getting ready to leave for California in a couple of days, we decided that just having a few boys over for swimming, food and video games (overnight) would be the perfect way to celebrate. 

Before all the boys (3 of them) arrived, the hubby and I went shopping. We bought soda, pizza, hot dogs, chips, breakfast sandwiches, cake and ice cream for the event. These are all video-game playing pre-teens, they'll pretty much eat anything, we laughed. Might as well just keep it easy on ourselves. 

One boy called ahead to say that he doesn't eat cake/ice cream and was worried Bryson would be offended. I told him Bryson would be fine with it. If we told Bryson he couldn't have any--well, that would be a different story.

The Pack. For the first time ever,
I wish I had a basement.

So, the boys arrive and all head straight into Bryson's room to start the destruction process. As 3 of the boys (including Bryson) start pulling stuff from everywhere, one of the boys...wait for it...starts CLEANING! He cleaned and organized Bryson's bookshelf and comic collection. He cleaned and organized Bryson's desk. He was about to start on the closet, when I made him stop. As much as I appreciated what he was doing, I wanted him to enjoy the time with friends. 

In the back of my head, I'm calculating how I could talk him into doing two other rooms for me...

Fast forward to dinner time. I make the pizza. The chronic cleaner who doesn't eat cake/ice cream, says he forgot to mention he doesn't eat pepperoni. He won't eat the pizza with it picked off, either. He doesn't eat pork. He doesn't eat vegetables. He only eats a particular kind of bread. He doesn't eat chips, potato or otherwise. He doesn't eat cereal. He doesn't eat pears or apples or pineapple. So, he's pretty much ruled out anything we have in our house. (We're going out of town, remember? Jim says he's only eating steak and cereal while we're gone. Riiiiight.) 

Wish he concentrated on homework like this.

After 30 minutes, he states he's not hungry anyway. 

Finally at about 10pm, he decides he is hungry.

The boys are eating every chip they can find. The pizza is gone. Oddly, no one wanted cake. (I wanted ice cream, but felt strangely possessive of it and didn't want to crack it open. My Precious...)

So, "Emeril" hits the kitchen. He pulls out bread, asks for a can of tomato sauce. Pulls out cheese then raids my spice rack. He finds a sheet pan and bakes his own little cheese pizzas. At least he's satisfied. 

The mother in me, finally starts to breathe again. He won't starve. 

This is what has them all transfixed. 

But, it does get me thinking. How much do we lose out in life, because we are so set in our ways? How much are we missing because we don't try something new? Personally, I would have missed out on A LOT. (Hello, I now live in Puerto Rico. If I was looking for the food I ate in the States, I'd be...well, maybe not as heavy, but that is beside the point...)

I remember, as a 20-something, my friends and I would set out on the road, looking to get lost. We found the best places and adventures when we got lost. We met interesting people, ate some great (and not so great) food, and saw some beautiful sights.

Maybe I need to check back with this kid when he's nearer to his 20s. In the meantime, what's the going hourly rate for a pre-teen home organizer?