Simon: "Mom, can I have a knife??"
Mom: "I don't think you're going to need one, bud."
Simon: "I do need one, Mom. . . I'm having soup."
Reminds me of a poem my Grandma Boone recites:
I eat my peas with honey--
I've done it all my life.
It makes the peas taste funny,
but it keeps them on the knife.
2 comments:
It must be a little boy thing. Sam likes a knife with his meals - no matter what we're having.
Good luck with those teeth. Dallin has been drooling like crazy. Hopefully those teeth won't push through too soon.
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