Last night we had pork chops for dinner. Jacob looks up at me and says, “I want my pork chops Mama.”
“Oh good. Well, here’s your pork chop right here. Eat these bites.”
“I want my pork chops Mama.” (Clearly, he’s not getting through to me.)
“Yes, this is your pork chop. Here is your sauce.”
“My pork chop with, with the owl on top. Owl on top.” (Subtext: Mama, it’s like I’m talking to a brick wall.)
“Owl on top?” James is looking at me like Jake has clearly lost his mind. Who knows what’s real and what’s made up these days? He’s always telling us about imaginary lions and tigers roaming the rooms of our house.
Jacob gets up and starts tugging on one of the drawers in the kitchen. We’ve never had to babyproof most of our kitchen because you have to have a special combination of muscle, persistence and luck to actually get any of these drawers open. We watch him and continue debating the existence of pork chops with owls on top with our two-year-old.
Then that little part of my brain that actually understands Jakey’s thought processes finally kicked in. “Your chopsticks with the penguin on top?” I find his special Korean kid-friendly chopsticks.
“No this a penguin, Mama. This a owl.” And then he successfully ate his entire pork chop with his pork chops with the owl on top.
James literally just looked at me, speechless.
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