It begins in the grocery aisle of our friendly neighborhood Wal-Mart.  Carols are piped from the overheads, shoppers are grumpy and pushy, each department is wildly understaffed - typical yuletide consumerism bliss - and here comes the Rusnak troop of five, taking up too much space, taking too much time, kids singing an endless chorus of "I want - I want," mom and dad singing along to "Let It Snow" while adjacent patrons roll their eyes and mutter a frustrated curt, "thanks," when we pull our kids out of the way of their flustered shopping carts.  And despite it all I enjoy Christmas shopping - I pride myself on my thick retail skin and boundless marketplace patience.

once again...WHY???

So, we're on a mission for waterchestnuts (a requirement for my yearly Austin Family Christmas contribution of Rummaki).  We search high and low but there are none to be found.  We do, however, find a can of Escargots on the top shelf.  I pull it down to show Zander.  "Can we get it?" he asks.
"Why?"  Because....why?
"I wanna try it.  Can't we try it?"
So into the cart it goes.

Of course, we own nothing like a snail platter, so we cook them up on a disposable foil pie plate - high class, yes.  Zander stands over me the whole time.  He watches me drain them at the sink.  "They don't smell so good," he says as we watches grey water glub-glub down the drain.  He watches me dump them on the pie plate.  Spread them out - an evenly dispersed arrangement of black-grey boogers.  Load up the plate with garlic butter.  Stick them in a 350° oven until the butter bubbles...

"They're ready, Zander!"

"Ugh!"

He serves himself one.  Stabs it with his fork.  Stares at it.  Takes some deep breaths.  Then...down the hatch!!!

"How was it?"
He sticks out his tongue.  "Ugh!  Bad after-taste."
So we all have a laugh, clap him on the back for trying new things and let Uncle Colin eat the rest.