The Next Hot Dog Eating Champions

 Sometimes a little competition hurts 

In "THE ZONE"

I'm convinced. Especially after tonight.

Hannah and I are being groomed to compete in hot dog eating contests.

So we're a little slow eating our vegetables. What's the problem? Mommy needs to sit and relax her feet for at least over an hour. We're thinking of her, really.

But...

She doesn't see it that way.

Instead she puts on the timer. Puts me up against Hannah and. we. race.

Yes folks, there's something about a timer, sibling rivalry, (and sometimes the threat of going to bed early), that gets the fork a movin' and the food a stuffin' in the mouth.

And then there's the cheers. Mommy and Daddy standing by our side chanting our names, pumping their arms, faces frozen in smiles just hoping their little game works.

Oddly, it does.

Our cheeks full and bulging, we hear the time check...7 minutes....4 minutes...

the squash, broccoli (you enter any vegetable of your choosing) moves at an amazing speed into our mouths and down the hatch.

And you have it. Mostly success. Tonight, just as the buzzer went off I stuffed my last piece of squash into my mouth. Though I lost the competition I managed to maintain my bedtime. Winning.

Check back with us in fifteen years. Or check on ESPN when the hot dog eating contests come on. Mommy and Daddy may be grooming the next eating champion...or just developing anxious eaters who eat too fast and consequently endure heartburn and a tendancy to be overweight.

Either one.