Karl Buechner Jr

Tony likes to call Teno mini Karl Buechner. It’s a nickname he earned about a year ago upon becoming very outspoken on whether or not people should eat animals.

I’ve been a vegetarian for just over 10 years, Tony has been one for closer to 20. I spent a few years as a vegan, and I still bake without dairy more often than not. (Tony was also a vegan in the mid-90s during the same Krishna core craze that convinced me to go vegetarian, but he snuck Hostess fruit pies when no one was looking.)

I’ve gone through all the stages – the first stage, where I wasn’t sure I could live without bacon; the next stage where I was so disgusted with what I’d been eating all my life I couldn’t think about anything else; the stage in college where I decided vegetarian wasn’t enough and went vegan; the next stage, years later, where I found myself in a tour van in Toledo, OH, starving because not even the hamburger buns at the only diner open at 4am were vegan and I was too young and stupid to have thought about packing food. I dated an omnivore who went out of his way to only take me places to eat that had no vegan options. I ate grapefruit for dinner. Finally, I gave in and had pancakes, with no butter. For one an entire year I was terrified to eat cheese or to put sour cream on my torta. Then once day I accidentally had some and my ass didn’t explode I officially became a lacto-ovo once again.

Anyway, this isn’t about me. This is about my kid, Teno, who is a vegetarian. When I was pregnant a lot of people asked me if I’d raise Teno as a veggie. Seemed like a weird question. Would you ask a Catholic person if they were raising their kid Catholic? Or a black person if they were raising their child black? (OK that poor analogy offended people. Let’s try this one:) Or a German person if they were raising their child German? Not eating meat is as much a part of my and Tony’s lives as religion or race or creed. You are what you eat, right? (For the record, if you’re baptized into the Catholic church, you are forever a Catholic unless you are excommunicated. Believe me, I’ve been trying to find legal ways to get myself excommunicated for years.)

Most of my friends are vegetarians and vegans, so they knew what was up – but the occasional old lady would ask, and then politely inquire as to whether or not I was worried a meatless existence would stunt Teno’s growth. “Perhaps you’ve seen my grizzly bear of a husband?” I’d ask. Or sometimes, “funny, no one asks a 300 gorilla where he gets his protein!” But being a soon-to-be mom, I had to ask my doctor if it would be OK. His answer, of course, was that there couldn’t be a healthier diet for a growing child than one rich in fruits and veggies. Meat consumption is completely unnecessary for normal growth, he said. Just don’t load him up with soy as it can be hard to digest and he’ll be as big and bouncy as any other baby boy.

For the first three or so years of his life, Teno had no idea he was a vegetarian. We’d take him to the zoo (I know, zoos suck… but as a city kid it’s his only chance to see any animals besides rats) and show him every animal show we could find on TV. Finally, one day, we were watching Food Network and Alton Brown was demonstrating how to cut a chicken in half with kitchen scissors. “What’s hims doing?” Teno asked me. “He’s cutting up a chicken,” I said.

“That’s not a chicken! A chicken is a buuuuurd!” Teno laughed at me for being so stupid. I looked at Tony and Tony looked at me. “Hey babe,” I explained, “That’s what a chicken looks like with no feathers and no head. Because some people eat chickens.”

Teno laughed at the idea, but I convinced him it was true. “Some people eat pigs, and cows, and other animals, too.” He wanted to know some of the details, so I explained that the animals have to be killed in order to be eaten. That they die, and they can’t run or play or see their moms anymore when they’re dead.

His eyes welled up with tears, “But I don’t want to eat hims! I love animals!”

“I know, babe. Mama and dad love animals too. That’s why we don’t eat them. And you don’t eat them, either. You never, ever have and if you don’t want to, you never ever have to.”

For a few weeks Teno was very curious about other things people eat. Do they eat dogs? Sometimes. Do they eat frogs? Yes. Do they eat other people? Well… not usually. Would they eat my shoe? Maybe, but probably not.

Then Teno started tattling on people who do eat meat. Grandma likes to eat meat. She likes to eat haaaaaaaam and that’s a pig! Leslie eats meat to. She said so.

I know, babe. Some people eat meat.

Then once day we were in a restaurant and Teno caught a glimpse of someone’s sandwich coming out from the kitchen. He identified the offending pile of meat on top, pointed at the woman who’d ordered it and yelled, “That lady’s eating MEAT! She wants the animals to DIE!!!”

“OK, Karl Buechner,” Tony said, “Sit down and drink your juice.”

Now people ask me what I’ll do if Teno wants to eat meat when he gets older. I’m reminded of my mom’s line, “This isn’t a restaurant. You’ll eat what I make.” Will I make him meat? No way. First of all, it’s my house. Second, I don’t know how to cook meat. I’m 30 years old and I’ve been a vegetarian since I was 19. Before then I lived on pancakes and tacos.

Will I stop him from eating meat when he’s not at home? How can I? I can hope that I’ve exposed him to so many delicious vegetarian options, and been honest enough with him about the way animals raised for food are treated that he’ll never want any part of it. But that’s all I can do.

Until then, little Karl and I will keep having our frank discussions, keep eating veggie dogs, and keep having family mosh time whenever New Ethic plays.