Monday, March 5, 2012


Mags: "This sharing thing is for the birds."

I understand where she's coming from. It's hard to share ALL.THE.TIME. It's a lot of pressure. Heaven forbid you take out a bag of chips or try to spray a shot of canned whipped cream in your mouth (just because you can). You can try as hard as you want, hide wherever you want, but they will find you. Then they will stand in front of you and assume the "baby bird" position. It looks like this:

Bird photo credit: Kelly Peters (THANKS, KEL!)

Mags has been trying out new techniques lately, though. She has not been as blatant about her desire for what I'm chewing. My personal favorite was sprung on me just the other day. I gave her points just for the artistic display.  

Mags heard the Girl Scout cookie box open. She waited for a few seconds in the other room. I knew she'd heard me, but she acted indifferent. Then she meandered...not stampeded into the kitchen. Her act was flawless. She fiddled with the magnetic letters on the fridge for a few seconds while making idle chatter about the letter "M". All the while, I felt her boring a hole in the back of my head with her eyes. Neither of us were giving in. I was set on looking very concentrated while washing the pan caked in mac and cheese. I was  trying so hard not to chew. Two could play at this game.

Then she made her move. She was on me fast like a lion on it's prey. Mags started shooting questions at me in rapid succession. The water was running so I couldn't hear her. Mags knew the more her mouth moved, the more I would have to know what she was saying. I'm not one to just nod and say, "Oh really. That's great!" to this child. She has set the stage for four long years that you have to find out what she wants. For all I know, I would've agreed for her to pull out the dreaded play make-up. Oh, the horror! 

I realized at this point I had to open my mouth, now filled with half chewed cookie. I had to inquire. "I'm sorry Mags, I couldn't hear you. What?" She began to ask her question again, stopped mid-sentence, and cocked her head like a puppy dog. It was too late. She knew.

"Hey! What's that in your mouth?" There was no lying or ignoring this child. She's had the determination of a hungry alligator since she was born. 

I tried the honest, nonchalant approach. "Oh, just a cookie."  

She was planning her next move. "Oh, Mama. I've been such a good girl today. Can I have a cookie, too? Pleeeeease?" Then she folded her hands together and batted her eyes at me. No lie. The girl has the batting down pat. We are going to be in so much trouble! 

I couldn't help but laugh. Her logic was sound. So, I went over to the cabinet and opened the sacred purple box. Then it came. A twist in the plot. One I didn't see coming. "Umm, Mama. Actually I changed my mind. Can I have some Mini Eggs instead?" 

Well, played, Mags. Well played. 

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