People are creatures of habit. It's a cliché for a reason. There's something comforting about the familiar that the unknown simply cannot compete with. Take coffee, for example. I prefer black coffee. It's not that I haven't tried coffee with cream and sugar, but I don't have a sweet tooth. From my perspective, if coffee needs cream and sugar to be drinkable, there's something wrong with the coffee. While that clearly does not work for everyone, it's what works for me.
Whether we are discussing the simple, familiar comfort of how one prefers coffee or even how to order a sandwich, we all have our opinions. In both of these examples, a cynic will say you are stuck in a rut if these orders are always identical, which is a massive oversimplification. If black coffee is your thing, are you ever going to add sugar just to prove (to nobody in particular) that you aren't stuck in a rut? Are you the type to adjust how you prepare coffee or how you order a sandwich just to please others? Or are you the type that refuses to try new things for fear of not liking it as much? Both sound like variations of buyer's remorse that have nothing to do with happiness.
In our attempt to ensure our children do not fall victim to either of these approaches, my wife and I empower our children to try new things, while simultaneously allowing them to express what they prefer. Despite our best efforts (and our best intentions), there are times when these paths end up crossing rather than running parallel. In these moments, we encourage our children to roll with the punches rather than digging in their heels — it doesn't always go according to plan.
One morning during a break from school, my wife decided to make french toast for our children as a surprise treat for breakfast. My daughter, who loves french toast, was all in. My five year old son, who had never indicated a dislike for french toast, left the table when his mother's back was turned. This prompted his mother to pursue him to his room once plates were served, only to discover he had returned to bed and covered his entire body with his blanket.
"Why did you go back to bed?" She asked him gently. "It's breakfast time."
"NO!" He exclaimed emphatically from beneath his blankets. "I'M SHUTTING BREAKFAST DOWN!" Before my wife could so much as process this declaration, he added, "I DON'T WANT FRENCH TOAST! I WANT GRAHAM CRACKERS WITH PEANUT BUTTER!"
Of course you do.
