Eye of Newt, Nose of Preschooler

Last night at the dinner table we were watching the commemorative 200th episode of our regular mealtime show, "I ate 2 bites of my dinner and I'm full; may I please have dessert now." The viewers in this household falling into the Age 35-54 bracket are growing bored with this nightly program, but seem unable to break the habit. But I don't really want to talk about that.

So, we're sitting around the dinner table. We're trying to cajole MissM into finishing at least ONE of her tacos. She asked for two originally. She ATE two the prior night. We didn't even TRY to make her eat marinated chicken and pasta, like the adults are eating.

"Just finish the one taco, you've only had 2 bites!" we admonish.

But she is strong, she is unswayed, she is a pillar of defiance.

Then, out of nowhere, her father reaches over, gently tweaks the end of her nose and pretends to pop it into his mouth and eat it. Now this is some kind of weird teasing that he apparently grew up with because I've seen his dad, MissM's Grandpa, play the same thing with her. Normally, it's all fun and games. But she's tired and cranky and wants (but knows she's not getting) dessert.

Her face scrunches up and tears start to run down her cheeks. She takes two rather loud, rather wet-sounding snuffly sniffs, and before I can comfort her and tell her daddy is only teasing, she whips around to look at him, eyes narrowed.

"Now you have snot in your tummy," she tells him.

We both burst out laughing and soon she is laughing, too. No more dinner was consumed, but at least the evening ended on a positive note.