We packed up our gimpy caravan and headed for Park City last week. And as usual, B. proved himself a happy little gypsy who always eats and sleeps better when on vacation. He stopped asking for a bottle of milk in the morning and just ate three big meals a day. Mostly room service waffles for breakfast, grilled cheese for lunch and pizza or spaghetti for dinner. But he did have roast pig for dinner one night. Which he ate under the guise of "chicken" between alternating bites of carrot cake. Luckily he was totally oblivious to the animal roasting on the spit on the hotel's balcony. And then there was white rice and bites of hidden teriyaki chicken at a sushi restaurant. (All the grownups were desperate for one non-saucy/cheesy meal.) One day he even ate two bananas for breakfast. Unprompted.
As for the Fourth, B. started with oatmeal doctored with some applesauce in Nana's kitchen. Then bagel and cream cheese. Then a turkey sandwich. Then two slices of pizza. Then pita chips and hummus. All before three o'clock in the afternoon. Then wrapped up the day with two slices of Carvel cake. Hungry little road warrior.