Taa Daa!

Sonya made dinner last night - pasta alfredo with
chicken. However, it wasn't ready before she had to go
to class and we both agreed it was a little too spicy
for John to eat. Sonya made some soup. She ate some,
then left the rest for John to have for dinner.

After Sonya left I made John a bowl of soup and
myself a plate of the pasta with a salad. I put the
food on the tray next to John's high chair. The soup
was full of things John loves: chicken, carrots, rice.

He would eat none of it. Not a bite.
Instead, he kept pointing at my pasta and hooting like
a hungry little monkey.

"Doe! Doe!" he said urgently, pointing at my plate.

(This shouldn't have been a surprise. When macaroni
and cheese is available, John will eat it to the
exclusion of all other foods. The pasta was noodles
with cheesey stuff on them, so I should have known
he'd want it.)

Now, the pasta wasn't blazing-hot spicy or
anything, but it definitely made my mouth warm. Sunday
night John was eating something (chicken? Red beans
and rice?) and he'd gotten an extra spicy bite. He
howled and tried to wipe it off his tongue with his
fingers. It was sad, but funny. I didn't want to
repeat that, though. Still, he wasn't going to eat
anything else...

I gave him a bite.

He chewed it thoughtfully and said, "this, father,
this is what I have waited for my whole life. Please
shovel it in to my little piehole as fast as you can."

I had two helpings. John ate half of each, then he
had a couple of scoops more.

Later, I'm walking down the hall carrying John. I
open the closet where we keep the towels and get out a
washcloth. I give it to John. Then I sit him on the
floor.

"Go in the bathroom," I told him, "it's time for a
bath."

So he walks into the bathroom, lifts the seat on
the toilet and tosses the washcloth in. Then he closes
the toilet, looks at me and gives me a big smile as if
to say, "taa daa! Top that trick, daddy!"