good enough to eat

Perhaps I didn’t birth my children, but I take exception to the idea that I’m not hardwired with as strong a desire to munch on my offspring as much as my beloved partner, the birth mother of our children. She gestated them, pushed them into the world for us, endured the pain, the incredible rawness of labour and childbirth. But I was there, when each of our children were no more than an idea, a hope, a precious longing in their mothers’ eyes.

According to an article on, “Science explains why women want to ‘eat’ babies“, a University of Montreal study published in the journal Frontiers in Psychology pondered the “cute enough to eat” comments of heterosexual birth mothers, and women who have not given birth and are not mothers. Apparently non-birth-moms (queer and straight alike) were busy nibbling on their little ones that day as we are not mentioned in the article, although our existence might be acknowledged in the study – I haven’t read it so I can’t say.

I think my kids are absolutely delicious. I tell them so all the time, much to their delight, as I growl and fain chomping on their limbs, digits, noses…whatever easily presents itself, whatever is most ticklish and will harvest the loudest, belly-shaking laugh.

The smell of my kids has always delighted me; the fresh fruit and coconut scent of their baby heads, the sweaty toddler palms and stinky toes of preschoolers. It makes sense to me that we (my partner and I) would love the smell of our children as we are their primary defence, their strongest allies in a world that can be merciless and unforgiving. That new baby smell might have faded, but it lingers in my memory and I swear it draws closer every time they need me to stand between them and a sometimes harsh reality.  I’m their champion and delighting in their scent is a precious gift as well as evolution’s call to duty.

My kids are scrumptious and I tell them so everyday. Thank you Mother Nature!

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