The real negotiator
It was time for me to start making dinner. My six-year-old asked what we were having. I told her sausage, potatoes, and corn or carrots. I even let her VOTE on corn or carrots. (She chose corn. Typical.) But then she decided she wasn’t a big fan of sausage and potatoes and asked if there were any other options. I did sort of feel like making tuna casserole since I had plenty of time for cooking, unlike some nights where sausage is the easy last-minute prep meal. So, I told her tuna was an option.
First she said, “Ohh, I don’t like that.”
I reminded her that she and her sisters always eat it up when I make it. Suddenly her eyes brightened as if remembering, so she wrapped her arms around my waist, squeezed me in a big hug, looked up at me with her beautiful green eyes, and said quietly but intensely, “Make it. Make it.”
She won hands down. I wonder when she’ll learn the art of eyelash fluttering. She was nearly there.
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