Ribeye. Who knew?

So tonight Tom grilled us steaks and we made Owen a frozen pizza—a typical dinner routine because Owen rarely eats what we eat.

So after he finishes his pizza, he says he likes steak. Huh? Yeah, he says he loves steak—as if he’s had it before and why don’t we know this…?!? I’m pretty sure they don’t get that at school so I have no idea where he decided he liked it. But I’ll take it!

So he proceeded to eat pieces of both of our ribeyes like it was going out of style.

But lest you think he’s becoming more normal…he refused mashed potatoes until we bargained with him (offering chocolate) and even then he made a face like he was tasting dog poop.

But I’m concentrating on the ribeye. He are ribeye. And loved it.

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