Even better than finding foods that Norah loves is discovering that the mere smell of a hard-boiled egg will make her dry heave. Does that make me a horrible person? Because I'm not sure if I can accurately convey the joy that these pictures bring to my soul.
Egg in shell is perfectly acceptable. Look at us; we're all having a grand old time!
Out of the shell, boiled eggs become some kind of harbinger of Easter sadness that caused Norah to have the most incredible, visceral aversion to a food that I have ever seen.
I think she's trying to will it away with her mind.
But it just won't go away! Why would we do that to her?
Only when the tears came did we stop. Which brings me back to the part about my being a horrible person. Mind you, I could have reminded her how she is nearly a year old and still disrupts my sleep at least twice a night, but I figured the egg was in itself torture enough. So, really, I was going easy on her.
I also made her a special egg. She didn't eat it.
Don't feel too bad. Grandma Wendy got her a special Easter basket full of prizes and we only tried to get her to try a boiled egg one more time. Just in case she wanted to change her mind.