Saturday, September 17, 2016

Terrible Twos and a cookie

Dinner was a small battle with Kiara. We negotiated and renegotiated with every spoon of rice and fish soup. I wanted her to eat, because she hadn't eaten a full lunch. Finally, I offered, "When you finish everything, I'll give you a cookie.

"Cookie!" she said.
"Rice first!"
"Cookie!"
"Open your mouth," I said firmly.

She obeyed.

Twenty minutes later, we were finally down to the last three tablespoons. Already hungry (hangry!), I had portioned out all the food in her bowl so I could correctly predict the end of our shared ordeal.

She refused to eat any more. I reminded her of the cookie.

She said, "No!" Then she pushed my hand away, spilling some food on the iPad.

I pretended I was angry. She still said no. I pleaded. Still no.

Finally, I said, "No cookie for you." Then I handed her leftover food to my mom to eat and left for the kitchen to get my own dinner.

Suddenly, I heard a loud squeal. Of delight. Of victory. Then a loud celebratory shout: "COOKIE! YAY!"

How can you say no to that?