Rutabaga Reality

What if you never learned the difference between pretending and reality?

Then you’d be two.


Looks tasty, but let’s get the faceless one.

Boo and I had this conversation today after she watched the “Dinner” Sesame Street podcast and its featurette “Guess What We’re Having For Dinner,” in which a typical middle-class family must face its anti-rutabaga prejudice. (The Spencer Tracy role is taken by the Roman-nosed Sesame Street weatherman. Sidney Poitier is, well, a rutabaga.)

Boo: “Daddy, what are we having for dinner?”

Doodaddy: “Since you ask, bratwurst and beans and chipotle potato salad.” (Please, be impressed: we’ve started doing weekly meal planning after CityMama’s brilliant example.)

Boo: “Can we have rutabaga?”

Doodaddy (thinking — that’s a vegetable, right?): “Um, sure.”

Boo: “Can I have some rutabaga now?”

Doodaddy: “Um, I just used it up this morning. We’ll have to go to the store first.”


Boo: “Let’s buy the faceless rutabaga.”

Doodaddy: “OK.”

Usually, Boo knows when she’s pretending, and doesn’t eat, say, the “pretend” green beans that are actually blanket fringe. But in this case, she had a completely straight face, leaving me with this question:

Was she joking?

Not to mention:

Where’d she learn the word ‘faceless’?

I conclude that for Boo, “pretend” and “real” aren’t exactly the same right now, but they do overlap massively. And that’s kind of neat.