There we were, sitting in La Mirabelle with Nana and Pop, watching as the waiter put our plates on the table.
I'd ordered chicken nuggets for the girls to split - usually a hit. But this time, Kyra took one look and asked (not in her inside voice, either) "Is that PIG???? If you eat PIG, WORMS will grow in your BELLY!!"
I shushed her, because gross, but she refused to take a bite of the suspect chicken nuggets. (Pig nuggets?)
That was last week. Then, the night before last, I roasted a whole chicken, carved it, and put it on the table. She ate a few small pieces of white meat, then picked up a drumstick and carefully looked it over.
Holding it delicately between two small fingers, she held it aloft. "Was this," she asked "a bird who used to walk around?"
Pause. Gulp. Yes, Kyra, I replied. Yes, it used to be a bird.
She dropped it back on the plate with a grimace and announced firmly: "Then I am definitely not eating that."
And there you have it, folks. It appears we're going to have yet another vegetarian in the family.
At least they haven't tried to go vegan on me yet.