Fast forward till this weekend. At dinner on Saturday night, Sky starts putting her fist up in the air and saying something that sounds like "salad". I tell her no, we're having lasagna. She grabs D's arm and puts it up in the air. "Say "salad" Daddy" Sky commands. Being a good daddy, his fist goes up and he says, "Salad!" So there you have it, from a cry for racial unity to a cry for healthy ruffage in just two years.
In other news, we're finally teaching Teshie to eat with a spoon. It's going about as well as you would expect:
At least some of the yogurt went in him mouth, right?
I wish mine loved healthy food...
ReplyDeleteJust because she says it doesn't mean she eats it! We have a one bite rule: you have to eat at least one bite of everything on your plate before you can ask to be excused, and if you don't finish your dinner, you don't get desert.
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