Evelyn is so like her father in many ways. She looks just like him. (Or what we imagine he would look like if he were a chick.) She doesn't sleep much. She can't sit still to save her life. She talks in her sleep. And now we have another to add to the list: Evie likes pesto.
Tonight we had leftovers. While Evie had beans and rice from our Mexican dinner out last night, I had Panang Curry leftovers from our dinner out the night before. Chris had leftover beef tips I had made, and unthawed some pesto he made ages ago.
Chris made the pesto himself. He is so obsessed with pesto that he even grew the basil. Also you should know that his nose is mostly unworking, so he needs a LOT of flavor to taste anything. This means the pesto is primarily made of garlic and basil, with a tiny bit of cheese and absolutely no pine nuts.
So he was eating the pesto and Evie started whining for a bite of his noodles. He gave her one just to appease her and we watched while she slurped it up. Then she asked for another. And another and another until they were gone. Then they both stuck their fingers in the bowl and wiped it clean.
I must say I take this as a personal insult. I'm not a pesto fan in the first place. But when I was pregnant, pesto was one of those smells that would send me gagging to the bathroom. It was banned from our house entirely.
And now Evie likes it. I even have to pretend it doesn't completely gross me out, since I don't want to negatively influence her food choices. It's two against one, and I have lost this battle. I am always going to have to smell that pesto smell.
At least until I'm pregnant again. I'll just have to hope my next baby evens out the score.
7 hours ago