So, two night ago we are seated around the dinner table eating an amazing chicken pot pie that my wife made. Kindra and I are gobbling it up, but the girls...not so much. They have learned that not so endearing 5 letter word "nasty". They learned this from us saying not to eat food off the floor it's "nasty". Not knowing fully when to use this word and when it is proper to use (usually never), they have adopted its use at the dinner table for things they do not want to eat. In this case it was the chicken pot pie, that was definitely not "nasty". Ah, but there was something there on Samara's plate that did catch her eye, the cornbread that she coveted. So, like normal, she must eat all her food before she is to have the bread on her plate (otherwise all she would eat is the bread). Samara sets off eating the pot pie, eyes watering, because she is gagging because she thinks it's "nasty".
At this point, Samara is seriously reconsidering what she has to do to get her cornbread, so like a little Kindra that she is, she sets a self-proclaimed goal of eating all her pot pie in five bites. This way she knows it will end at some point and it gives her a sense of accomplishment when she is done...no idea who she gets this from.... After each bite she has me (Papa) count out loud so she knows how close she is to the end. At this point I am turning my head away to laugh at her as she "suffers" for her cornbread. She finally finishes her food in five bites and gets to eat her prize of cornbread. Needless to say, fun times at the Houston home at dinner time.
Papa
