Quiet dinner at home

This evening after ordering Chinese food, we microwaved for Lyla a delightful bowl of last night's pasta. Julie also laid out part of a string cheese and sliced a baby carrot lengthwise 11 times and scattered it all on her tray. Lyla ate only the cheese before flapping her arms and saying "Ah done!"

"Are you sure you're all done?" Julie said.

"Yeh!"

"You need to go play quietly if you're all done," she continued. "Mama and Dada are still eating."

This same routine happens every single night. Lyla puts on her best girl scout face, genuflects, and solemnly swears to go frolic independently so her poor parents can finish dinner.

"Are you sure you're going to play quietly?"

"Yeh!"

Seven seconds after I freed Lyla from the shackles of her highchair, she climbed into a big person chair and ate pasta straight from the tupperware like some grungy college student.


Then she proceeded to board her mother's chair despite our fervent objections.





I did con her into eating carrot slices by moving to hand her one and then saying "Psych!" and eating it myself. Before long she was playing Psych with Julie, with a slight name modification.

"Sock!"