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.