Wild Child – The Animal Activist

My 7 year old clone.

Wild child – the girl who has had middle child syndrome since the day she was born. She’s definitely unique and you’ll be hard-pressed to ever find another child like her, but that just makes her even more amazing. She’s a feisty little thing, what will be the shortest of the three children since her brother is growing just as fast as her sister did, but she’s definitely the one that will kick your ass. She’s outspoken, she has no filter when it comes to giving her opinion, and when she decides on something, you will never be able to change her mind.

Recently, the thing she has decided on is that there are certain things she doesn’t want to eat anymore, though she used to once love it. A part of me thinks it’s because she is a future vegan, but another part of me thinks it’s just simple psychological things. For example, she’s been refusing to eat pork chops for almost a year now. But she still loves to eat bacon, and ham. She won’t eat oven-baked chicken, but she’ll eat fried chicken or rotisserie chicken. She doesn’t have a good excuse for it, but there’s no making her eat it. We just have to suffice in giving her extra of everything else.

It’s no secret the girl is a huge animal lover. She’s always gotten extremely upset about animals getting hurt, killed, or eaten. She gets very vocal when she sees people littering, and will go out of her way to make sure trash hits the closest garbage bin.

When she was only 3 years old, we went to Red Lobster for my mother’s birthday. As a toddler, she was enthralled with the lobsters in the tank. She stared and laughed at them for the longest time, she would have pet them all if she could have. Then, dinner was brought out, and she sat next to my mother who got the platter that came with everything – including a lobster tail. It didn’t take long for this quick-witted little girl to put two and two together. As soon as she realized my mother was eating on of the shellfish in the tank, she grew horribly upset. Even as she took bites in between her crying in which she obviously liked the taste, she cried because her shelled friends were food. That was the beginning of the personality of my youngest daughter.

Tonight, my husband made barbecue chicken for dinner, and for some reason, he thought it was a good idea to give her a piece of it. I arrived to the dinner table late due to waking from a nap with the boy, but by the time I got there, her chicken was clearly untouched. My husband was once again trying to logic out of her why she doesn’t like the oven-baked chicken, but would eat it if it were fried. All she could give was a shrug, just like she does every single time this conversation is brought up.

Instead, she dipped her green beans in barbecue sauce and ate her biscuits, reveling in the flaky, buttery taste. Just like her mama, the girl can put away her breads. I mean after all, it’s some pretty good stuff. All the while, her daddy kept trying to talk her into eating the chicken, and you could tell by the look in her eyes that she was just completely blowing him off. Definitely an early rebel that we fear what will become of her when she hits her rebellious teenage years.

Don’t get me wrong, I completely support her in any decisions she wants to make. If she wants to become vegan, then I will stand behind her and let her do what her heart desires. Just currently, it’s not much of a possibility. My husband is a carnivore, and I can’t afford to buy two separate meals for dinner every night. I hope that one day I can, but in the mean time, I just have to give her extra of what else is made. She still eats enough to fill her little belly and continues being the happy, healthy little girl she is.


*Side note: I know it’s a short blog tonight, but I worked longer today at work than usual and had less time to get everything else done. You can for sure expect a longer post tomorrow! Hope everyone had a wonderful Labor Day!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s