I have spent many hours trying to convince myself that my almost two-year old is still my little baby and not a dreaded “toddler”, but I cannot pull the wool over my own eyes any longer. Tonight, Abby came into the kitchen and sweetly requested “chicken nuggets?” It was a little early for dinner, but I figured that she rarely wanted actual food, so I would definitely submit to her request. I reached into the freezer and before my hand had even grasped the bag of frozen “meat”, Abby had melted into a tiny writhing puddle of tears on the floor.
I picked her up and asked her what was wrong. She cried “chicken nuggets!” and pointed at the pantry. I walked over to the pantry and she reached in and grabbed a box of fun fruits (also called “fruit snacks” by people who don’t like things that are fun). I pulled one of the packages out of the box and handed it to her. A smile spread across her face and she again said “chicken nuggets”. Obviously, she has been confused by the “tastes like chicken” method of deception that we frequently use.
I opened the package and set her down. She said “No”, handed the package back to me and pointed at the pantry again. “Abby, what do you want?!?” She grabbed the box and pulled out another package of fun fruits, which I proceeded to open and hand back to her. She then threw herself on the floor and began screaming as if I had handed her a package of broccoli. Okay, I am seriously losing my patience now. “Abby I can’t take any more. What do you want?!?”
She flailed on the floor for a few more minutes before finally retrieving yet another package of unopened fun fruits. She walked over to me and said “Open it?” I opened the package and handed it to her. She smiled, said “Thanks, Momma” and walked away happily, as if the past 10 minutes had never happened. Finally, she had found the one that was “just right”. I guess I’ll tell her that we’re having fun fruits for dinner when I pull the nuggets out later.