I'm a little stretched thin on patience right now. Andrew is on his way home from his second weekend in a row of tennis tournaments, along with his late nights of tennis, this has been a long stretch of not much daddy at home.
So picture dinner tonight. First off, don't judge me for the content of dinner, the vegetables were french fries. And no, I didn't cut up the potato and fry it myself, they were frozen out of a bag. As I was getting something for someone Hudson helped himself to more ketchup, as in lots more ketchup. I turned around in time to see him s-t-i-l-l pouring it out and I told him to stop, which he didn't do immediately. The resulting pool of ketchup was about 1/4 of his plate.
I took a deep breath and said, "you will be eating all of that." He didn't say anything. When he was "finished" with his dinner he brought his plate over to the sink, with most of the ketchup still on the plate. I said, "your not done." He replied, "but my french fries are all gone." I handed the plate back to him, used one hand to guide him back to the table and picked up a spoon with the other hand and put it on his plate. Without anymore words from either of us he actually sat there and ate his ketchup with a spoon. I was gagging as he did it because I'm not much of a condiment person anyway, but I really hate ketchup.
He brought his now empty plate back to me and said, "can I have a bowl of ketchup for lunch tomorrow?"
Win some parenting battles, loose some.