During naptime, my mom and I made petit fours for the bridal shower for my soon-to-be sister-in-law. We left a few pieces of pound cake out for the boys, who were quite content to nibble on them with juice. Until . . . .
Tornado E: Grandma! Look! What are these?! (Notice he went for the easy sale.)
My mom: Those are petit fours. They-
Tornado E: Grandma! Can I have one?! Please?!
My mom: No, Tornado E. They’re for Aunt K’s party tomorrow.
Tornado E: But I want one! Please?!
My mom: We’ll try save you one for after the party.
Tornado E: How about I have one now and save the rest for the party?
My mom: (Counts the petit fours. To me) There is one extra. (Tornado E puts on his sweetest look. To me) We have an extra yellow one.
Tornado E: Grandma! I love the color yellow! It’s my favorite! It’s the color of fire! (I’m quite sure his favorite color is red for the same reason.)
Grandma: (Handing Tornado E a yellow petit four) That’s the only one you get.
My boy knows and uses his ABC’s. Always Be Closing.