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My almost-four-year-old is an odd little birdie (she’s my kid, after all) — If she doesn’t want to eat dinner, I’ll ask her to take X number ‘more bites’.

Usually, it goes something like this:

Her: Mama, I’m full. 
Me: Okay, no problem, sweetie. 
Her: Can I have ice cream now?
Me: No, love. You’re full, remember?
Her: But I want ice creaaaaam… 
Me: I want a million dollllaarrrrrs. Eat four more bites of your chicken and three bites of your rice. Then we’ll talk ice cream. 
Her: How about ten?
Me: Ten what?
Her: Ten more bites of chicken and ten more bites of rice?
Me: Okay, you win. This time. Next time, though… 
Her (mouth absolutely full of rice): Mumph mummer fye… 
Me: Here’s your damn ice cream.

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