I was five, as the old family story goes. As we waited for our flight home from Mexico City, I wanted a piece of candy. (Don’t you know candy is more delicious when the wrappers are written in another language?) Because my parents weren’t giving in, I took it upon myself to get some.
I walked right up to the counter and I stared at that candy. And then I slowly rolled my eyes from the display, up to meet the eyes of the nice lady behind the counter, looking as sad and forlorn and sugar-deprived as possible.
She gave in, of course.
From that day on, my father called me LCD, or Little Convincing Daughter.
It would seem I now have two of my own, as these things often go.
When I dragged Thalia to the New York International Gift Show last month, she wandered across the aisle to look at some dishware–which just so happened be surrounded by beautiful little licorice treats on skewers. She returned with two. I know she used those puppy dog eyes.
This weekend, Sage, not even four, let her LCD out in full force. Witness:
Sage, you need to eat more edamame. You can’t just have rice.
I will eat three bites of rice and one edamame.
No. I want you to have four edamame before you take another bite of rice.
But I had four edamame the other day. So now I can have rice.
Four edamame. Right now.
How about three?
Sage, please put down that mint.
But it’s not a candy. It’s a minty.
It’s a sweet. I don’t want you eating sweets in the morning.
No mommy, it’s not sweet. It’s spicy.
“No Sage, you can’t have a second peanut butter cracker. You have dinner coming any minute.”
But (sniff sniff, tears coming…)
what if I forget what the first one tastes like?
The great irony of course, is that while my daughters become more savvy in their convincing techniques, I have evidently lost my own powers completely.
What’s the wildest thing your child has said to try and get their way?