Anyone For Cake?

I’ve made a fool out of myself again in the feeding department. She refused to eat the fare that I had prepared for her. All she wanted was “cake” which is her generic term for anything sweet that comes after a meal.

She associates it with cake as the only time she has ever had sweet treats was after her first birthday and generally at parties where there was usually a birthday and subsequently “cake.”

She kept asking for cake and I kept telling her that she could have a small treat (and I mean small – no more than 25g) if she ate all her dinner. Pretty standard parent call one would suppose.

The debate went on for a few rounds and in the end I relented and said that she could have “cake” if she ate what was on her plate. Unfortunately there were only 2 pieces left on her plate and after that offer she promptly stuffed them both in her gob and through a smiling mouthful of food said again “Cake.”

Knowing that the little trickster had gotten the better of me I tried to sneak a couple of extra pieces on her plate when she wasn’t looking. She turned around and saw what I had done gave me a look as if to say “Hey, that wasn’t part of the deal!”
“Cake” she says again.
“You have to eat those bits as well” I ventured.

She didn’t even bother to say “no”. She just calmly picked up the plate and threw it onto the floor in disgust. We both just looked at each other for a while in silence.

She then tried to crane her neck to look at the mess on the floor but her view was obscured by the tray table of her high chair.

“Oh,” I said. “Would you like to see the mess you have made?”
“Yes” she replied. I turned her highchair around so she could get a better view of the destruction on the floor hoping that this might trigger some kind of remorse. Well no such luck.

She looked at me, looked at the food on the floor and then looked up at me again with the biggest grin on her face you would ever want to see.

“Well there is no chance of any cake now is there?” I said to her.
“No” she says with a smile, “Done.” And that was the end of that meal.

It wasn’t until I was relaying the story afterwards that I realized that it was actually me who was at fault (isn’t it always?). After all I made a deal with her and then I broke it.

It’s no wonder she felt a little ripped off and she had every right to do what she did. I always try to ask myself how I would feel in the same situation as she is a little person too.

Sorry my little one. I’ll try to keep my word next time….