Rainbow pizza

We had an interesting conversation while walking to school this morning. It went along these lines.

“Mummy, isn’t it good that there’s no rainbow coloured food because if we ate it and then sicked it back up into a puddle, and then stood in the puddle, we would have rainbow sick all over our shoes”.

I was dumbfounded for a moment. The abstract lunacy of the statement is probably a result of spending time with me, their mother, and to be fair, I am weird, so that didn’t really surprise or alarm me. In fact, my own thoughts often venture along such existentialist predicaments. No, the thing that I found really odd was the reference to the puddle. Why not just consider the rainbow regurgitation purely in pavement form? Why the need to include the puddle? Before I had the chance to quiz them further on this dilemma, they’d merrily skipped off, avoiding the puddles, I noticed, and the subject was cast onto the pile of ‘things we will deny saying when we are older because we never would have said something so stupid, Mum’. But just to freak them out a little bit, and to cast the seeds of doubt about the whole rainbow food thing, I made rainbow pizza for tea. Moral of the story? Eat your greens. And reds, oranges, yellows, blues and purples.

About the Author

Magickal Beanist, busy mummy, committed vegan, ardent recycler, obsessive knitter, recent jogger, animal lover, Cotswold dweller, ridiculous writer, attempts to live a conscious, magickal life by design. Enjoys a large glass of bubbly stuff at the weekend. And I'm not talking about washing up liquid if you know what I mean. Contact me through the website. Your reward will be good karma and a friend for life ;o)

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