Join Me in Snarkville

Of the thousand things that may seem hard to explain to another person (and parenthood being the role by which you are required to teach, explain, and define another person’s world), I may have just hit upon one of the hardest.

How exactly do you explain to a 4 year old, who has never encountered a bone in his chicken, how you eat a drumstick?  I might mention that I seriously doubt that in his 4 years of life he has ever seen meat on a bone.  (Am I a bad mommy for that?)

Why did it make more sense for him to hold the fat end and try to eat the skinny end?

What part of “we don’t eat the bone” was so hard to follow?

Why exactly was I trying to explain to my son that we don’t eat chicken bones?  I mean we all figured out how to eat a drumstick somehow in our lives right?  I don’t recall having to have the “this is how we eat fried chicken” talk.

For what it is worth, drumsticks are “heavy”, require “help” to eat them, and ultimately were consumed when the bright parent (me) stood up and removed the meat from the bone (and a biscuit was promised for his hard work).
Regardless of all of this, I turned my back on the table as I was loading the dishes into the dishwasher long enough for the youngest cat to steal the bone.  It was almost as large as the kitten.