Cereal does it for sure. So does pretzel chips. And chips. But the biggest culprit?
I’m talking smacking. My god, the smacking! Mostly from the 3 year-old, but occasionally Mr. B fall’s prey to this phenomena as well.
Does this ever end? Am I fighting an uphill battle in trying to make this stop?
Sure, I’ve encouraged the kids to take a bite of food, then chew with their mouth closed. And to not munch their chips like a pack of rodents.
You can’t stop it, you can only hope to contain it.
In her defense, Miss P was endowed with a very long tongue, understandably making it difficult to eat daintily. Wait, I haven’t mentioned her tongue here yet? It’s like a giraffe…long and skinny. That girl can touch the tip of her nose and bottom of her chin with that thing.
You’re trying it now, aren’t you?
And while I fear for her reputation in college, right now it’s only a cute quirk, making her S’s extra exaggerated and adorable.
But Mr. B has no excuse. He just likes to nibble like a squirrel. With both of them smacking at once, I feel like scrambling upstairs for some cotton balls to cram in to my ear holes.
I have to admit, I’ve always been this way. I can’t stand to hear my husband eat a banana. A BANANA. The most quiet, benign food ever. I sometimes can’t stand to hear myself eat it either. The noise, imagining someone else’s saliva breaking that food down…makes me a bit queasy.
And yet, we all HAVE to do this. Alas, this is my issue. I know where I get it from.
My dad used to get on me all the time as a kid about noises I’d make. That post-nasal snort my allergies brought on would invoke That Snare from him. The one that let me know I needed to cease snorting activity or else.
And now it appears I’m following in his footsteps. So I’m working on being more tolerant. To the smacking. To the hard work that’s involved in chewing crunchy food.
Because one day I’ll turn around and my kids won’t want to be at the same table with me. They won’t want to talk at all, let alone with food in their mouth.