It’s the all important dinner time. You know, when the three “AND A HALF!” year old gets to assert all kinds of independence when three seconds before he needed your help to find the pencil on the table sitting directly in front of him [or insert any act that you know he can do by himself without ANY issues normally].
Me: “Okay, what would you like for dinner?”
Little Man: “A pancake.”
Me: “Nope. You haven’t eaten them the last three times you have requested them. What ELSE would you like?”
LM: “….”
Me: “How about a sandwich?”
LM: “Oh yeah, an egg sandwich on regular bread please.”
Me: “I would love to do that, but we don’t have any eggs in the house right now.”
LM: “Can you make some?”
Me: “Um, no. Chickens make them.”
LM: “….” (complete with look of terror) “What?”
Me: “Chickens make them. We don’t have any chickens. Therefore, we can’t make any eggs.”
LM: “Oh, okay.” (Terror will resume another day when he is reminded that chickens make eggs, I am sure…) “I have a secret. Bend down and put your ear close to me.”
(I do.)
LM: “I want a chhhhhh…..awwwwww…..cklit chiiiiiiip sandwich.” [Said pretty much in the same way as Barney Stinson says “Legen…wait for it….dary!”
Me: “Um, no. [stifling laughter kind of] You cannot eat a chocolate chip sandwich for dinner…”
LM: (grasping at straws…) “With peanut butter? On regular bread? Pleeease? With chocolate chips…?”
Just like his Uncle. [Okay, okay…and like his Uncle’s sister-I will take some blame-especially since I am the one who makes them.]
Never a Dull Second 