It is no secret that I love food. My kids know this, my wife, family, friends, 2nd and 3rd tier acquaintances and anyone that can see my facebook posts understand that food is a passion. There are behaviors that kids become and are not taught. Last night we visited one of our favorite food establishments and I remembered that I love getting a side of cheese to dip my fries in. I have forgotten to order this the last couple of times and end up mooching off of my Father-In-Law.
Oh my how good the cheese is. The process for dipping is to dip the fry in the cheese first (very liberally) and then move to the ketchup...which by the way is not found in the "way too small, used to get mouth wash served in the 3rd grade" paper cups. The ketchup, Heinz, is poured on to a very open area so as not to get it on my fingers.
Anyway, I get up from my chair to go get something and find my Son has taken over my real estate. He is dipping my fries into the cheese, and not ashamed of it. He must have felt so at home. I move him over to his chair only after moving the cheese there first. Where the cheese is...Jack is. Let's fast foward to the end of dinner. We are cleaning up the table and throwing things in the garbage. We naturally picked up the cheese and put it in the bag to throw away.
Jack began to cry as though he saw his dog shot in front of him. We couldn't quite make out what was wrong until we heard the word "Cheeeeeeese!" He obviously was not done and Grandma pulled the cheese back out and gave it to him. We are in a hurry at this point. Cole is crying, Tessa is crying, the parnets are very anxious because the kids are crying in a very busy restaurant. So Jack is reunited with his cheese only to find out that we will be throwing it away before we leave. That did not go over too well. I am standing at the trash can dumping our garbage into it and I scan the table to make sure we have everything. I see Jack, with his right index finger, taking swipes at the cheese. No fries or ketchup, just fingers. He is maximizing his efforts in a last chance to get cheese before it goes into the trash can.
I think to myself, 'This is my kid.'
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