Early Adoption Failure

I am an early adopter, sometimes.  It depends on the product and the platform.

Take for instance new dinner ideas.  Working mom arrives home nightly to husband and kid already home for an hour.  Kid is busy doing homework, husband has walked the dog and is catching up on news, and everyone is hungry and ready for dinner.  Of course the catchy commercial for a product that will help me make dinner in a snap catches my eye, it is supposed to.  They made it to speak to me, and millions of women like me all across America.  Let us help you make your life easier.

So like millions of other women, on my weekly shopping trip in the mega-supermarket, I go in search of this revolutionary new product.  Voila!  I find it, not by careful searching, but by the gaggle of women standing there with the product in their hands, reading the label for secrets to making their lives easier.

I walk over nonchalantly, grab a tub of the miracle cure, and just put it in my basket.  Don’t want to look like I don’t already know of its properties.  This is not my greatest idea.  This one comes to backfire on me when I take it out of the chill chest to put into Saturday night’s dinner.  I finally read which flavor I grabbed and how it is applied in a recipe.  First thought, disaster!

No way is preteen going to eat a dish with this, but we always teach that you have to at least try something before you can say you don’t like it.  We also teach that unless I make something completely inedible (which happens on a fair amount of occasions), you need to eat what is put in front of you.

It is in those dinner conversations that one or both of us wind up channeling our parents.  Things like,”if I didn’t eat what my mom made for dinner I had to eat it anyway, so will you.”  A classic, “don’t you know there are starving children in the world who don’t have a hot meal to eat?”  The ever popular, “whatever you don’t eat now will be waiting for you for breakfast.”

That being said, last night’s dinner conversation was one that could have been had in any typical household in America.  Any typical household that has children.

We all sit down, I put the experiment on the table, and low and behold from the seat to my right I hear, “WHAT is that, I’m not eating that!”  Now, mind you, there are no toxic fumes emanating from the dish in green smoky curls, nothing moving, and certainly nothing with tentacles.  With that said, the other half grabs the serving spoons and starts dishing out the concoction.

Small, almost semi-adult takes a look, a sniff, and proclaims he doesn’t like it.  Ah, time to interject a classic from the repertoire.  “Dude, I had to eat what my mom made for dinner, and so do you, so at least try it before you start to complain.”  Fork spears food on plate, fork enters mouth, mouth starts to curl, and mouth opens to wide view of half-macerated food and the sounds of gagging.

At the same time, two adult faces pretty much look like younger third face.  This look is quickly replaced with a smile.  Two sets of eyes glance in each other’s direction.  Non-verbal communication begins.  One set says, "okay, so it’s not the best of experiments but it’s made, it’s hot and it’s got good protein."  The other set of eyes replies, "yeah okay, and besides I am not in the mood to go out and get us a pizza."

"See kiddo, it’s not that bad, let’s eat."  Protestations begin, bargaining and requesting for alternate foods commence.  Accepting defeat once again on a failed experiment, but not being in the mood to be reminded of it, the words come out of my mouth before thinking.

“There is more to life than pizza and chicken nuggets, so eat your dinner kiddo.  I know it’s not great, but it is all there is.  I promise I won’t be making this again, and you are only going to have it eat it this one time, so stop complaining and start eating!”

So much for being an early adopter.