Order Up - Literally

What is it about toddlers that makes them love a certain food one day and despise it the next. I'm not talking about disinterest or dislike, I'm talking about hate it so much you feel the need to fling it across the room. Connor, the oldest at three, has actually graduated to telling Mommy what he wants to eat for a meal, or at the very least telling Mommy what he does not want. He's even at the level of actually telling me when he's ready to eat ("Onnor hun-gree" counts, right?). Sawyer and Alexander, on the other hand, don't talk all that much yet at the age of two. So, when I put a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in front of them one day, and they eat it quicker than I can cut it up and get it on their plates, I assume it's a good food choice. Four full sandwiches (yes, eight pieces of bread) for three little boys seems to indicate success. But then, four or five days later, I place the same sandwich in front of them and it gets hurled across the dining room table and onto the floor or the wall (depending on which one is throwing and their relation to each from the table). Not a simple shake of the head or push the plate away, but pick it up by the corner, as if it's toxic, take a tiny little bite or just a little sniff, and then hurl it as far as you can. And people wonder why we don't take our three toddlers out to eat in restaurants more often. Of course, next week it will be back on the approved list and will be eaten quicker than Mommy can get it on the table. I just wish I knew which children I was serving on which days - it would make life (and cleanup) much easier.