General freak out/fussy/woe is me/how dare you try to end a meal! noises come from Zoe. If she had it her way, certain meals would go on and on and on.
Daniel pauses and looks at me as I look back and forth between him and our daughter. I'm exhausted, lounging on our couch and completely letting him run the show, but I offer this:
Me: She wants more, honey.
Him: Should I give her more?
Me: Well it is apples, not.... CRACK!* (I had paused as I tried hard to think of something we shouldn't give her too much of. Didn't want to say something boring like cookies or ice cream.)
Him: You need to blog this.
So - she got more apples and she was thrilled - like we'd given her the best thing in all the world. What can I say, sometimes she's easy to please.
* - And for the record: I know to not ever give my kids crack. Just in case you were worried. Also, I'm slightly snarky at this stage in my pregnancy,