I am definitely in a wave of novel experiences that Moms of past eras did not have to deal with. Can you imagine a cavewomen telling her offspring, “Okay, so you are off of meat from now on? Our hunter Dad will have to find more fish and as a gatherer I will find more beans?” Last winter, my teenage daughter told me that she would no longer be eating meat with the rest of the family. Fish, she said, would be okay, even shellfish, which I found amusing since her Dad is Jewish. I was confused since it was during Lent and I thought this was a phase brought on by my Catholic faith which she would emerge from, eating meat dinners like the rest of us. But noooooo, Lent came and went and she persisted in wanting meatless but not necessarily fish-less dinners. I admit I would forget and right before serving a roasted chicken dinner would slip some frozen falafel balls in the toaster oven, hoping they would be done in half the time so that she wouldn’t be waiting fifteen minutes into the meal for her main course. I got the hang of it in a few months, Boca burgers at the ready, chunks of mozzarella available during sausage-laden Italian meals, when my baby, my 11 year old number one and only son decided that he was going to become a pescatarian also. In the words of the Pet Shop Boys, I cried, What have I, what have I, what have I done to deserve this!