We experienced a mega-toddler fit tonight. Dinner was ready. Like parents across the land Jason and I were anxious to sit down and eat. Finley wanted to go outside. We're talking tears and screaming and clinging to Mama and writhing as if in terrible pain. We showed him the yummy dinner waiting for him on his plate, but that did not help the situation.
"Are you tired; do you want to go to bed?"
"No." Grasping for any possible strategy to get on with our dinner, worrying that this was not going to be a pleasant meal, Jason and I started down the slippery slope, offering him other, possibly more enticing, food.
"How about cheese?" No response.
"How about salad?" Finn stopped crying and appeared interested.
"In a little bowl?"
"A big bowl," he insisted. OK, a big bowl of salad. Holding our breath we gathered the salad and dressing and even offered croutons, waiting for this peace brokering to fall apart. I let Finn serve himself croutons while Jason poured his dressing. Within moments our toddler boy was happily munching on his salad. He ate three servings.
--JAK
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