Have you had your yum yucked?
If you’ve tried to convince a child of any age to diversify their food portfolio, you probably have. Imagine this, you have been eating something, enjoyed it, offered it to your child (or had it stolen off your plate) and watched a dramatic performance of how much he or she hates the food that is in their mouth so much that it needs to disappear off the planet in the next five seconds. In our house, we then say, “don’t yuck my yum.”
I got that phrase from a one season show, Happyish, that chronicled the life of a man in advertising and his wife who was trying to juggle a career from home. I related to both sides, both the utter lunacy of working in advertising as well as the give and take of trying to navigate the sometimes stormy waters of mom relationships. In this case, the wife used the phrase and I felt an immediate kinship to both the character and the phrase.
What a simple way to convey a load of feelings. From the sadness you may have felt at the loss of that last bite of dark chocolate that is dramatically spit all over the floor. To the anticipated hope you had in sharing bowls of lentil curry that they dumped the remainder of in the garbage (the one time they actually clean up their plate). Sometimes it is the feeling when you are thoroughly enjoying your food and have judging eyes watching, waiting until you relax in to it, to tell you how much it resembles the half-eaten diaper the dog threw up last night.
Don’t yuck my yum! It solves it. It gives off the unwavering statement that you will not be trifled with when it comes to your food. It also gently reminds them of interpersonal skills while hopefully making them conscious of the fact that someone else may like it (ok, maybe I’m dreaming).
It worked very well, and was used very respectfully by everyone until the one day……..THE ONE DAY. Mini-ion #2 was picking her nose and eating her boogers. And I start in on the time-honored tradition on why you shouldn’t eat your boogers; the germs, the dust, etc. And Mini-ion #1 says to me, “don’t yuck her yum, Mommy!”
Dammit. Outsmarted again.