Crumbed fish!

Last night, Mum crumbed steak for dinner.

     “This fish is really tough,” said Kibby as he tore the meat into chunks.

     We adults looked at each other. I am sure we were thinking the same thing; if he finds out steak can also be crumbed, he may refuse to eat it.  After all, in his world, only fish had ever been crumbed, thanks to his father.

     “It’s tuna,” I said, “you know that bloody tuna Dad sometimes catches.”

     “Yeah.” His eyes were back on Home and Away, as Heath pushed Zac in a jealous rage. “Tastes good.”

     It tasted good enough for him to ask for seconds which he wasn’t going to get because leftovers go in lunchboxes.  It’s the lazy mother’s way of simplifying the lunchbox process.

     So I asked Kibby and Seffy if they’d like some crumbed fish for big lunch (otherwise they'd have to make Vegemite sandwiches).

     “Yeah,” said Kibby.

     “Kibbim,” snapped Seffy.  “It’s crumbed steak.  It’s not fish.”

     “Shut up, Seffy.  You know nothing.”  Kibby turned to me.  “Mum, it akshally tastes like chicken.”