Today has been a snacking day. We are having a stressful
time, with a pending house sale and purchase, the sale of our old dead car, the
boy lifting Daddy’s charge card and then losing it, the girls off on an
overnight, and the cats engaged in a screaming predawn battle right next to
Mommy’s bed. The natural human response is to nibble. That or go to a movie. Which Mommy, needing a little just-Mommy time, did -- leaving Daddy at the mercy of
Jamesian reasoning most of the afternoon.
Jamesian reasoning consists mainly of contesting the
punishment for losing Daddy’s charge card, rambling on about Pokemon
statistics, and wheedling more “battle cards” (drawings of Pokemon, Sonic and
Mario characters) out of Daddy. Jamesie thinks Daddy is the world’s greatest
artist. Daddy knows better, but is not unsusceptible to flattery.
But mostly when faced with stress, we nibble. Mommy does it.
Daddy does it. Jamesie does it. Jamesie is freaking good at it.
I can’t tell you how many times that boy has come to me
today asking “Can I have--?”
Chicken strips. Pizza. Green chips (his descriptor for Lay’s
Sour Cream and Onion). Swedish fish. And . . . green chips again.
“James, you just had green chips.”
“No I didn’t, I had sidditch fish.”
“Before that. You asked me for green chips and you finished
a whole bag.”
“Just because it was mostly gone already.”
“James, why do you want more green chips?”
Weedling: “’Cause I’m really hungry.” Kicker: “And ’cause a
boy’s got to eat.”
Can’t argue with logic like that. “Don’t have a huge number,”
was my parting shot in surrender.
“Thanks, Dad!”
