Eat that raw?

Our soon-to-be new son came to visit with us this past weekend. I've read that one of the hardest things to get used to in a new culture is the food -- I can testify to the fact that one of my most vivid memories from a trip I made to Spain decades ago was trying to eat squid-ink-rice (it was black). So I know that this new kid is in for a bit of a difficult time as he adjusts to our eating habits.

An aside here on names: to preserve my kids' anonymity, I've been saying "older son" and "younger son". With three kids, this kind of naming system will be tough. So I'll describe my oldest from now on as "J-son", the youngest as "N-son", and the new boy as "E-son".

At any rate, after a weekend of my husband and the boys spending a lot of time together biking around and shopping for sports equipment, it was my turn to drive the kids to the drop-off point. The social worker had chosen a Burger King as the transfer spot. Since I avoid chain restaurants whenever possible, this was the first time I'd been to a Burger King since . . . well, probably since before I went to Spain.

We arrived early, and even though the boys had already had peanut butter sandwiches, of course they started telling me they were still hungry. So I hauled them off to a grocery store across the street and told the kiddoes they could have any fruits and vegetables they wanted. The other kids swooped down on carrots, a half-melon, grapes, and a cucumber.  E-son chose candied apples, and I decided to be a softy and let that count.  (I got a lot of hugs for that one!).

Later as we were eating all these veggies and fruits at our corner table at Burger King, E-son looked at J-son's carrots and asked, "You mean, you can eat those RAW????" Welcome to the family, guy!