Conversations with Jack these days can tend to go like this:
Me: Do you want a snack before we go?
Jack: (Nods his head left and right, then up and down)
Me: Do you want a snack or not?
Jack: I want one.
Me: What do you want?
Me: How about a fruit twist?
I hand Jack a fruit twist.
Jack: Nooooo! Noooo! I don't want a fruit twist. (Very whiny.)
Me: You just told me you wanted a fruit twist.
Jack: No, I don't want one.
Me: What do you want for a snack Jack?
I toss the fruit twist on the counter in frustration.
Jack walks over to the pantry and looks in.
Jack: I want something different.
Me: Raisins? Crackers? Fruit leather? A banana?
Jack: A fruit twist. Why did you throw that on the counter Mommy?
But then, later in the day, he will come up with an ensemble such as this:
And the laughter makes me forget about the 5 minute conversation about a fruit twist. Those are my socks put to use as skates.
After thinking about the snack conversation a little more, I came to the startling realization that maybe he picks food the way I do. The whole conversation we had is almost exactly like the thoughts that go through my head when I'm trying to find a snack. That's not necessarily a good thing in me and probably doesn't bode well for a 3 year old (or his mother). I might have a little more patience for this process though. Although I don't think this was part of it, my mother did curse me, in hopes that my children would be as picky as I was and I would endure her pain.
This blog is becoming quite introspective. Who knew?