‘Our grandson is a fussy eater. How can we get our daughter to care?’

Dear A&E,

We adore our four-year-old grandson, but he often comes to stay with us and I’ve noticed that he’s very a fussy eater. Adamant about what he won’t touch and reluctant to try new things. We are concerned that his diet is limited. Should we say something to our daughter-in-law about improving his eating habits? He is a delightful child in every other way.

– Bothered 

Dear Bothered,

How lovely that you spend so much time with your grandson. We are sure that the run-ragged parents of a four year-old are tremendously grateful. It’s often a wonderful dynamic: parents feel less guilty than they might do were they to leave their child with a baby sitter or nanny and, of course, it saves them money. Grandparents get all the joy of hanging out with a lovely little bundle but it comes with far less of the relentless responsibility and worry than frontline parenting. And so there is a care-free purity to your current set-up: a virtuous circle where everyone is happy.

So he’s a fussy eater. He’s not a bully or a biter. He’s not refusing to speak or make eye contact. He’s not hitting you. He’s not torturing animals. He’s a fussy eater. He’s not a food refusnik. He’s not throwing food at you. He’s not having a violent tantrums every tea time. He’s a fussy eater. You mention in your longer letter that he will only really accept fishfingers, peas, pasta (with various sauces), cucumber and apples. Sure, it’s not a “rainbow plate” situation but there is plenty of nutrition in that. He sounds very normal.

He is only four – without much agency over his own life. He is presumably told when to go to bed, when to have a bath, when to go outside, when to go to school…food is one of the few things that small children have some control over. He may be very comfortable with you but he is still in someone else’s house, which may exacerbate his reluctance to try new things: scary-seeming textures and threatening flavours. Children like the same things, as anyone who has stood at the bottom of the same small slide for an hour or watched The Gruffalo 10 million times can attest.

You are wondering whether to say something to your daughter-in-law. How do you think that will go? Do you think she will reply, “Thank you so much for pointing that out because I never worry about my child’s nutrition. I never panic that his snacks are too sugary or his palate is unadventurous. Thank you for pointing out that I am not worried enough and I am very grateful to you for your careful and helpful pointing out. Now let’s spend lots more time together so you can point out more of my failings.”

Come on, Bothered! She will feel judged. She will feel accused of benign starvation. She will feel that you think she is somehow condemning to a life of limited gastronomic choices. The moment you say something everyone will be on the defensive.

Most grandparents have their niggles: brushed hair; good manners; quiet playing; straight-forward bedtimes and maybe for you it’s food. Eating what you are given. Being brave enough to explore new foods. Your son and daughter-in-law will be less likely to sit down for meals with you if they feel that their child (and, by extension, their parenting) is being monitored.

Anecdotally, we would say that half of all the children we have come across have food foibles: will only eat white food; don’t like things to touch each other on the plate; feel phobic about anything green. And again anecdotally, they almost all grow out of it. But here’s the thing: so what if he doesn’t grow out of it? He can be a fully functional human on fishfingers, pasta, peas and apples. What you emphatically do not want to do to any child is to make food and eating a battle ground. You do not want to make eating emotional. That way lies all sorts of problems.

You are having the best time with this little boy. Enjoy him. Enjoy his evolution. One day he’ll eat a green bean or a bit of salmon and it will be heroic. Cook with him. Do that thing where you grate courgette in brownies and hide carrots in Bolognese if it makes you feel better. If you do want to mention it, laugh with his parents about his tyrannical food demands; how he is his own boss and knows his own beautiful, tiny mind. Reassure them that soon he’ll probably be demanding sushi. Keep doing what you’re doing because it does not sound to us as though you have a problem on your hands.

More from the Midults: 

What readers advised in response to last week's problem: We thought we'd hit it off with a family while abroad – until we got home

@John Steed: 'Friendship is social business - there is something about you that fails to attract these customers sufficiently. But quite possible, if they are so desirable as friends, that they already have a very full social life, and simply don't have room in their lives for more friends. They were 'getting away' from their busy lives when they met you, and are now back in the whirlpool.'

@Paul Green: 'Best not to read too much into it. It could be anything. They might have had a death in the family. But if you have made the overture and not had a response, drop it. There is nothing more you can do.'