Peeling guilty?

So today is the first day of the Chinese New Year and hence a public holiday. Viv is home and I am so glad because we have a long list of to-do items. Xena's clothes are in the wash and need to be hung to dry, her bottles need to be washed and sterilised, she needs to be fed, lunch needs to be cooked and had, packing for Perth needs to be started, the itinerary needs to be finalised, etc. etc. As I get ready to cook lunch, Viv asks me what he can do to help. I am thrilled because my Mondays are never like this. Usually it's just Xena and me, and frankly speaking, she's not that good at hanging her clothes to dry or washing and sterilising bottles or cooking lunch or packing or finalising itineraries.

It's already 11:30 am so I want to get lunch cooked quickly so we can focus on the rest. I think of how he can help me with lunch.

"Do you like to peel garlic?" I ask.

"No." is his (very prompt) answer.

Fine. That's fine. I had asked him if he liked to peel garlic. Well, he doesn't like to peel garlic. Fair enough.

"Can you peel the garlic?" I rephrase my question.

"Uh." is his (a little less prompt than before) answer.

Hmmm. Okay. Deep breath. I can handle this.

"Hmmm, ok. If you don't want to peel garlic, that's fine. You can just do something else. Why don't you feed Xena? It's time for her puree." I ask.

He jumps at the chance. He is experienced with bottle-feeding and is confident of doing this. And it means he gets to spend time with Xena and that's always fun. More fun than peeling garlic for sure. So I give him the puree, and explain what to do, including the arrangement of the spoons ("You give her one spoon so she thinks she is in control, but you feed her with the other spoon."), and explain about the back-up if she rejects the puree ("Let her gum on a piece of apple and a piece of Baby Bites.") and how to administer the Baby Bites ("Each pack has two, you eat one in front of her and give her the other one.") and the final step ("Of course, you will need to eat what she doesn't finish.")

I enter the kitchen and start peeling the garlic, singing "Aa dekhen zara..."

The following is a list of what I hear while I'm in the kitchen, every two minutes or so.

"Okay baby, try some puree. It's yummy!"

"This is your spoon, ok? Hold it."

"Uhh... she is completely rejecting the puree!!"

"Try it, baby. It's niiiiice!"

"She's not even opening her mouth!"

"Okay, let's put the puree in YOUR spoon and try."

"Oh no! She threw her spoon away!"

"Baby baby, what are you doing? No no no no no!"

"Oh my god what a mess!"

"Now she's pulling the hair on my legs! Oww!"

"Ok ok, try this apple now."

"She threw it! Now what??"

"Okay okay, papa and baby are going to have Baby Bites together!"

"Um... What do I do if she bites a big piece off the Baby Bites??"

"Ok, I am going to dip the Baby Bites in the puree and give her!"

"I dipped it in the puree and it got soggy and broke off!"

"Oh noooo...."

"BABY!!! What are you doing????"

"What is she doing????"

"Why is she doing this???"

"Oh noooo it's ALL OVER THE PLACE!"

"She can't climb out of the bumbo seat by herself yet, right? I need to go get a washcloth!"

Soon enough, I hear cries of help. Not so much from Xena as from her papa. I come out of the kitchen and assess the situation. She has obviously given him a tough time -- she has not eaten anything at all, has puree all over herself, has thrown away whatever she could get her hands on, and finally and most importantly, thrown up on him. He looks helpless and distressed.

"So... how was your first experience feeding her puree?" I ask.

"Uh."

Moral of the story: when your wife asks you to peel garlic... you'd better man up and peel garlic.