The other day after dinner, I caught you with your finger in your mouth.
“Sweetie, don’t suck your fingers,” I said absent-mindedly.
“But, Mom, I’m eating,” you explained.
“Eating? What are you eating?” Our dinner of hot dogs and tater tots was over. Plates were empty, but still on the table as we finished the movie we were watching over dinner.
“Ketchup!” you replied enthusiastically.
“With your fingers??” I asked, a little grossed out.
“Can I have a spoon??” you asked eagerly. As if that was a possibility.
“No! Ew! Just…” Wait. Ketchup is a vegetable, right? “Are your hands clean?”
“Just don’t let your brother see you.” There. I have made a rule. I have parented. My child is eating vegetables. Win!