Say cheese

Isaiah and I had a major incident over dinner tonight. Lately, if Isaiah thinks food doesn't look good, he just won't eat it. He won't even try it. I'm tired of his crying and ruining entire meals for the whole family. So the second he didn't want to eat the chili my mom made (and I had only given him a tiny spoonful anyway, anticipating that he might not really want it even though it is most certainly delicious) I gave him a warning that if he didn't try it he was going straight to bed. He refused to try it, so I carried him kicking and screaming (he was kicking, I was screaming) up to his bedroom. I told him that he could come down when he was ready to eat his chili.

He came down almost immediately, apologized to my mom for not eating it, and ate his chili without too many problems, just a few bad faces. But he ate it, all but three kidney beans. So that was pretty good.

Tonight, when I was putting him in bed, we were talking about what happened at dinner. I said I was sorry for yelling at him at dinner, and he said he was sorry for not eating his dinner. And I could tell he really was sorry. The rest of the conversation went like this:

Isaiah: I have an idea. Next time maybe we should have mac 'n cheese, complain cheese, lasagna and chili all mixed together. That sounds good!

Me: (kind of laughing) Do you mean complain cheese or plain cheese?

Isaiah: Complain cheese (giggling)

Me: Plain cheese?

Isaiah: No, complain cheese! (laughing)

You just never know... From the mouth of a three-year-old...