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Byline: Amanda Rogers
My son Pete ate a peanut butter sandwich for Thanksgiving dinner, and for Christmas dinner, and for dinner on Easter, Mother's Day, Mardi Gras, Elvis' birthday and pretty much every other day for the past five years.
When he was 5, his doctors said that it was a food jag that he would outgrow, that I shouldn't worry about it because he ate other foods, too. When he was 9, they said that as long as he was gaining weight and growing, I shouldn't worry about it. Unfortunately, every week he would find another food that he used to like that suddenly tasted nasty.
Now, he's 11 and down to a handful of foods: peanut butter, bread, applesauce, cereal and chicken nuggets from Burger King.
I was worried.
I went on a mission. I decided to hunt down and grill the experts on the matter of picky eaters. I told them I wasn't worried so much about the 95 percent of picky eaters who are preschoolers demanding gummy bears for dinner. I was way beyond that. I was talking about the 10-, 11-, 12- and 13-year-olds who have to take a case of peanut butter to camp or starve.
Talking to professional dietitians and psychologists (and other poor parents of the picky), I began to see that Pete may be strange, but he's not alone. One child I heard about will only eat macaroni and cheese if it's shaped liked Scooby Doo or Pokemon. Another…