So, the other night we had lasagna. My son decided he didn't like it. I'm sure he didn't like it because it wasn't slathered in chocolate that night, like it was the last time he ate it (slight hint of sarcasm here, people). He choked it down that night. Come the next day to have the lasagna for lunch...he just couldn't do it.
So, being the fabulous mom that I am, I gave him a choice. 1)Eat your lunch. 2)Don't eat your lunch and wait for dinner without any snacks. I only do this because my children are SUCH picky eaters that they just need to get over it!
Fast forward 2 hours, he's still sitting at the table. He had stepped away/taken a break a couple of times but really had made minimal progress. The thought of waiting for dinner without snacks was what was killing him. I kept telling him he didn't HAVE to eat, but he knew the consequence.
As I sat in the other room I heard a bit of fumbling around in the kitchen. Next thing I knew my son was at my side with a plastic bowl.
"I frew up, Mommy."
Now, I didn't fall off the turnip truck yesterday - I did not hear that "frow up" make a trip to the bowl. But, this water-y, red tinted yucky stuff did leave me questioning. Not wanting to be totally insensitive, I sympathized.
"Honey, I'm so sorry!"
It was at this point that I saw the little smirk he was trying to suppress. That little turkey!!!
He just totally tried to fake me out! He's not even four, people!