Fit to be a father

“I don’t like corn!”
“I don’t do tomatoes!”
“I can’t fit the peas in but I have a little bit of room left for ice cream…”
As the regular cook in our house, it’s enough to drive any woman to despair.
But no, that’s not Master Seven.
It’s my almost-30-year-old fiance!
Until recently, Learner Dad simply didn’t do anything green, raw or healthy.
Learning to make pizzas at home (he actually thought they only came takeaway), he looked up from his “meat, cheese and dough” extravaganza to whistle at mine: “woo capsicum… fancy!”
He often asks me the difference between a cucumber and a zucchini, fascinated to hear you cook one and not the other (not that he’d try either of course).
And recently, when I asked him to get green beans for a stir fry, he brought home nine of them.
Yes, nine single beans.
Three for each of us.
Fortunately Master Seven loves a good plate of veggies but he does increasingly watch Learner Dad for cues on what blokes eat.
And Learner Dad’s come to the party, shovelling down masses of lettuce and broccoli at dinner time.
He’s even taken up running to promote athleticism to his ever watchful son.
Even better news for Master Seven, while Aussie men are known for being some of the world’s biggest drinkers, his male role model can take it or leave it.
If Learner Dad feels an occasion calls for a drink, he’ll bang on about “getting into some Beam”, have a weak one, jiggle about, slur something, and fall asleep.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m too harsh on Learner Dad – as the waistlines of my friends’ previously slim husbands start to expand, I begin to think that maybe it’s just the Australian way and I should relent.
But I don’t know.
I’d kind of like to keep him a while.


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