Table for One

The R.A.'s preferred way to dine does not typically involve sitting.  He likes to "graze" meaning he grabs a chip or cookie and walks around while he consumes it - usually on his tip toes (he has rock hard calves.)  Obviously sitting while eating is considered something for pansies on the home planet and therefore detested.  This also explains why the R.A. is so driven to provide a miserable dining experience for the rest of us "sitters."  He is determined to break us of this bad habit.

We, on the other hand, are intent on having the R.A. sit while he eats.  Or at least while he eats fruit as like any despot worth his salt he will just drop the no longer enjoyable fruit where he feels like it.  Unfortunately sometimes we don't stumble across the discarded fruit for several days. [insert gag here]  Did you know old bananas can appear to be petrified?  I won't provide any further descriptions of rotten fruit, taking into consideration those of you with delicate stomachs.  Just take my word for it.

As you can well imagine, this exercise in "earthling dining protocol" is borderline futile.  The R.A. considers earthlings in general to be inferior and has not an ounce of respect for our mores, including eating.  This is how it usually goes:

The R.A. appears, lugging an entire hand of bananas/bag of apples/bag of grapes.  His usual M.O. is to do this when you are occupied in an activity that involves both of your hands, high heat, and perfect timing.  Despite saying to him, several times, "One minute, buddy.  Mommy is busy.  Just a second.  I have both hands in the oven and am attempting to pull the baking sheet from a 450 degree oven." the R.A. continuously attempts to thrust the fruit into your body.  Sometimes he will become so disgusted he will toss it at you.  Luckily it only hurts when it's the apples.

Next, you pull the fruit out of the bag or off the bunch and hold it up and just out of his reach while saying, "If you want the ______ you must sit at the table."  You will say this several times as the R.A. is so excited by the prospect of the fruit he is jumping in circles around you.  When he finally calms down you maneuver him to the table.  He sits and receives the fruit.  You sit nearby as, despite the R.A.'s assertion that you are as dumb as you look, you are not and know that if you leave the room he will be up and roaming.  The R.A., again working on the above assertion, initially sits quietly and has a few nibbles of the fruit.  He doesn't acknowledge you.  The R.A. is attempting to lull you into a fall sense of security - "See what a good boy I am?  You can count on me to follow the rules.  Now, why don't you go clean the jacuzzi or something?"

But even though you are in the room, the R.A. just cannot sit and eat.  It goes too deeply against his alien grain.  He starts off slowly, standing on the chair.  You order him to sit.  He does.  You will do this several times.  Things will escalate to him standing on the floor and eventually to him taking a few steps.  All the while you will tell him to sit and he will for 22.3 seconds each time.  Finally you will threaten, "If you want the ______ you will sit.  If you don't sit, no _________."  Ultimately you will end up taking the fruit.  This will enrage the R.A. and may result in some chinning, sometimes you will be chinned in the process.

So that's how we get some nutritional items into the R.A.'s diet.

Recently the R.A. has discovered a new favorite dining spot - on top of our convection oven.  On the one hand inappropriate, on the other we're pleased he has kept this newest quirk within the food realm and has not chosen, for example, to eat on top of the television set.  Take the progress where you can!

He does not sit on top of the convection oven while it is on (at least not as of this posting.)  The oven is on top of a small table and next to the oven we have stacked some cartons of soda.  The R.A. stands on the cartons and lays out his food on top of the convection oven.  An added bonus is that this new set up is directly in front of the kitchen's air condition unit, another electrical gizmo that provides the R.A. hours of interest.

So far he has not attempted to dine "al convection" while the oven was in use.  I am fairly certain that when this situation arises it will elicit a heated round of "greco-baby" wrestling as I know the R.A. will be more than displeased that he won't be allowed to eat on top of the hot oven and will tenaciously pursue use of said oven.  What's great about my life is that there is always something to look forward to.  Or as I like to think of it, waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Bon appetite!