Chocoholic

The brownies we baked on Monday have been a problem all week. Before dinner tonight, Lucas asked if he could have a brownie for dessert (there's a bit left yet) and we both decisively said no -- that he had had many brownies this week, and that tonight was a brownie-free night. He pouted about this (his favorite pouting expression right now is "ohhhhh, DARN!") but moved on. He left the dinner table early to play by himself while the adults kept chatting.

Several minutes later Lucas reemerged in the dining room, approached David and climbed mostly into his lap, then said as sweetly and quietly as possible, "can I have a really, really small brownie, Dada?" "That's a very polite way to ask Lucas, but tonight we aren't having any brownies." Later on, when we were working on the dishes, Lucas walked into the kitchen and asked: "Dada, may I have a S-E-I-E-R-T?" David said "a what??" and he repeated some version of that spelled-out nonsense word. Long ago he picked up on the fact that we often spell out desirable things ("Should we give him some I-C-E-C-R-E-A-M?").

He didn't get a brownie tonight, but he gets an A for creativity.