Genetic Addiction

Once I heard a guy say that Chipotle must be putting crack cocaine in their burritos because of the way people flock there in droves day after day to get their hands around one. I agreed. Yep, must be crack cocaine. I'm a Chipotle addict, for certain. Brian and I are one ingredient away from being Chipotle soul mates. I'm a chicken fajita burrito with corn salsa, sour cream, and cheese. Brian adds lettuce (blast!).

A typical meal for Katy is approximately 3 adult-sized bites. On a good day. She just doesn't eat much. And she certainly doesn't eat meat, except for hot dogs. At a restaurant we're looking at one or two bites, because she's so distracted, isn't used to the food, and wants to get down and run around.

Chipotle, on the other hand, is different.

Everytime we say we're going out to eat, she looks at us with hopeful eyes, "Are we going to Meh-hote-lay?" The other night, we were indeed. We sat down outside (where I feel significantly less guilty about the amount of rice we leave on the floor), and we didn't hear a peep out of her for a solid 10 minutes as she shoved her single soft taco with rice, pork, and cheese into her mouth by the forkfull. Finally, we started picking up the trash from the table and she said desperately, "Wait! I'm not finished yet!" as she picked at the rice still left in her bowl.

I have never heard her say such a thing in her life.

I'm telling you. Crack cocaine.