Thank you for eating your dinner . . . in under two hours.

Gavin might be the slowest eater on the face of this planet.  I wish (for my sanity and my impending grey hairs) that I were exaggerating.  But, alas, I'm not.

Now, I know that I've mentioned before that he's a good eater, and he is.  By good eater I mean he eats a diverse selection of foods - probably more diverse than many adults that I know.  He'll still try new things, and he never really complains about what I serve him for breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

It's just that it takes him two freaking hours to eat every single meal.

We went to a baseball game a few weeks back, and he ate a hot dog and chips.  It took him two and a half hours to eat the damn hot dog.  That's averaging one bit every twenty minutes, I think.

Why is he so slow?  A variety of reasons.

First and foremost, the child has to go to the bathroom twice at every meal.  I kid you not.  This is always guaranteed to happen when we're out to eat.  It goes something like this:

We order. 

Not two seconds later, Gavin announces that he has to go potty.  I take him to the bathroom, he goes, we return, and all is well. 

Until our food arrives. 

I cut up whatever he ordered, and just as I'm about to get the second or third bite of my food into my mouth, he announces that he has to go again.  I sadly look at my food, sigh loudly, and take him to the bathroom AGAIN. 

It happens every single time without fail.  Without freaking fail.

Now, let's look at a typical lunch.  I try to make Gavin's lunch and then sit him down to eat while I'm feeding Kaleb (because, consequently, they're both hungry at the exact same time).  So, I'll make him, say, a grilled cheese sandwich with applesauce and carrot sticks.  I make him sit down, he picks up a carrot, and I commence feeding Kaleb.  Two seconds later, I look over, and Gavin's lying under the table.  I tell him to get up, and he says, "But I fell out of my chair."  Uh huh.  Right.

He gets back up in the chair, eats a spoonful of applesauce.  I work on burping Kaleb, and next thing I know, Gavin is riding his scooter down the hall.  I yell at him to go sit down, and he does, but only after he tells me something "really important" (i.e. "I.  Killed.  Mufasa.").

After a few threats, he sits in the chair for an entire five minutes, but only manages to eat one more bite because he's busy singing a new song that he's just composed.  Sadly, it's not about how he's going to hurry up and eat.

About thirty minutes in, I'm losing patience, and he's lying upside down in his chair.  Since I'm now done feeding Kaleb, I go sit at the table with Gavin, and he sees this as a prime opportunity to talk.  And he talks, and he talks, and he talks, until finally I have to tell him that I'm not going to talk to him until he's done eating.  That's okay, though.  He just talks to himself then.

About an hour in, the threats get serious (throwing away toys, removing his tongue, etc.).  And, somewhere between 1.5 and 2 hours, he finally eats the last bite.  And I kind of want to cry tears of joy while simultaneously choking him (not really choke him, but you get the idea).

And guess what happens not even 20 minutes after he's finally released from the table?

"Mommy, I'm hungry!"