Little Rabbit Foo-Foo
I just can’t bring myself to eat this bunny. It is one pound of spicy Mayan chocolate, sculpted into a shape that begs to be bitten. I bought it Easter morning, thinking it would be perfectly adorable for my nephew…then, in a moment of sober second thought, admitted that sure, it’d be pretty cute to see him sucking on that outstretched ear, but really, does a seven-month old need to get jacked on candy? Probably not.
Recently, the pediatrician declared the baby ready to meet solid food. “Gradually introduce things, but pretty much, he’s good to go. You can feed him anything but the big no-no’s like strawberries, soy, corn, or nuts.” I think it’s safe to add solid-chocolate bunnies to that list, at least till next year.
My nephew’s mom and I tease my brother that when he’s not looking, we feed the baby red meat. “After all,” we wheedle, “the doctor said anything but corn, soy, nuts and berries!” My brother gets angry and flustered and tells us that we’d better do no such thing. Frankly, I agree. Just reading that–we feed the baby red meat–sounds barbaric and makes me feel a little gaggy, conjuring images of my nephew tearing into a steak, jaws lined with double-rows of shark teeth.
And so, chocolate rabbits and rare beef remain safely stowed in my nephew’s future, along with tricycles, girlfriends, indigestion, splinters and television.