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DB1 was a fussy little soul when he was a baby. Still is, by the way.

I remember only too well the misery of taking an age to prepare a gorgeous, organic, natural delight of a meal, only to present it to DB1 in his high chair and watch him calmly lob it across the room.

Pretty much all food went along the same route. Vegetables, no matter which sort, were unceremoniously thrown (generally with utter distaste) to the ground. Meat, met with horror. Rice, pasta and potatoes, greeted with tears.

So imagine, if you will, my complete and utter shock, when I realise that DB2 is an eater. As in…he likes food! Loves it, even! Nothing is turned away from DB2’s ever ready, ever open gob.

However, I must say, in a rather hilarious twist of fate, I actually find the excessive love of food almost as worrying as the ridiculous hatred of it.

What I find particularly alarming is the manner in which he consumes it. At 6 months, I could understand it. He was a little baby, after all, and it made sense that he wouldn’t eat very sensibly. But honestly, at 17 months, you’d think he’d have grown out of it. But no, DB1 still consumes food like The Compostarium.

For those of you who do not know what The Compostarium is, let me fill you in. There is a children’s tv programme, called Mr Bloom’s Nursery. A central character in this programme is a big, rotund, round bellied machine called The Compostarium. The Compostarium is celebrated for it’s ability to consume lots of rubbish and mulch it all up into a compost.

This is what DB2 does.

He gathers food in his mouth, in what we like to refer to as ‘the collection point’. He fills ‘the collection point’ to bursting point, his little cheeks extended as far as possible, before the mulching begins. He gradually rotates the food in his bulging cheeks, masticating and dribbling huge gullops of wet, trickly food all down his chin, before gradually filtering the mulch bit by bit, down his throat.
However, it is all a cyclic motion, so whilst mulching, dribbling and throat sliding is in progress, The Compostarium is being continually loaded up with more food.

It is a never ending process, and it never ceases to alarm us. How does he not choke? We are not sure. But none the less, this is how he consumes his three bowls of shreddies, slice of toast and a pear in the morning. This is how it goes with his cream cheese sandwiches at lunch and his ample portions of chicken curry and rice at tea time. Not to mention his several snacks throughout the day. It all goes in the Compostarium.

It is quite grim really.

Grimmer still are the nappies, let me tell you. Three bowls of shreddies do not make a pretty nappy. But, let me tell you, the resemblance to actual, real compost is uncanny!


Et voila…here is the infamous Db2! I mean, Compostarium. Of course.