We are driving home from the cabin and I announce that pizza sounds good for lunch. Deklan echoes in my enthusiasm so I place an order for delivery with the new place down the street. As I’m on the phone I ask Deklan if he wants just cheese or cheese and pineapple. After 3 minutes of making the guy hold, he eventually settles on cheese and pineapple. We are normally thin crust kind of people, but this new place is known for their deep dish so I decide to try that. That was my first mistake. When the pizza arrives, I cut his square piece in half so it looks like 2 breadsticks and call him over to the table. As soon as he gets in eyesight of his plate he starts whining, “I don’t like this kind!” And here we go…

Deklan: I want a different kind!

Me: *sigh* Deklan, mommy asked you what kind you wanted and you picked this kind.

Deklan: *falls off chair for dramatic effect* But I don’t like this kind! Get me a different kind!

Me: First of all, mommy doesn’t respond to you when you make demands and you know that, so let’s start over.

Deklan: GET ME A DIFFERENT KIND!

*I’m really great at this parenting thing*

Me: I ordered 2 kinds. The kind you picked and the kind mom and dad picked. Take a deep breath, come look at the boxes, and tell me which kind you want.

Deklan: *walks over and points to the pineapple and cheese pizza.* I want that kind!

Me: *deep breaths* Perfect. That’s the kind already on your plate. Now let’s go eat.

Deklan: BUT I WANT IT CUT UP!

Me: Thank you for asking so nicely. *said with extra sarcasm* How would you like it cut up?

Deklan: Cut it this way and that way. *makes crisscross marks with his fork in 3 different directions*

Me: *I cut it into bite size pieces trying to follow the pattern of his fork as best I could*

Deklan: NO, NOT LIKE THAT! LIKE THIS! *makes even smaller crisscross marks with his fork on the already bite size pieces*

Me: Deklan, those are really small bites. Would you also like me to chew it up and then feed it to you from my mouth?

Deklan: Is that how you feed Carter?

Me: Ew. Gross. No. I’m not Alicia Silverstone or a bird. Now let mama eat. I drank way too much juice this weekend and this pizza smells like recovery.

There’s something so special about family mealtime with toddlers…