Every once in a while I look through my past writing and dust off something from the vault. This piece was originally written in April, 2007, a month after Ethan turned two. In four days he will turn five (I won’t even start right now on how freaked out I am about that), and is still very much the negotiator. If only I had known then just how MUCH a negotiator he would be… But really? Could I have done much about it? This kid is surely going to be a lawyer… Or an agent.
A few mornings ago Ethan asked for a chocolate chip cookie for breakfast:
Ethan: Mommy, I wanna chocachip cookie?
Me: That’s not an appropriate breakfast food, bud. How about some yummy banana yogurt and some Crispix?
Ethan: I don’t want rickets.
Me: Well, I certainly wouldn’t want rickets, either, but these Crispix are super yummy.
Three minutes pass.
Ethan: Mommy, Ethan have an owie.
Me: Where’s your owie, honey?
Ethan: On a knee, Mommy.
Me: Right here? (kissing a non-scathed knee)
Ethan: Yeah, Mommy, yeah… (then, with a bright smile) Maybe a chocachip cookie make it feel better!
Sigh.
I really don’t see why he shouldn’t have cookies for breakfast. The sugar crash would probably make afternoon napping a little easier.
Oh, I love this. That kid!