Stick a fork in it

Yesterday, Sara had gymnastics. We needed to drop off one of our cars to be checked out so the plan was that Robert would meet us at gymnastics, follow me to the car place, I'd drop off the car,  and then we would ride home with him. This was way more preferable to me than getting all of us up for a 7:30 drop off this morning. Way, way more preferable.

As we are waiting for Sara to finish her class, Robert says, "What do you want to do for dinner?" I shrugged because once again, I have forgotten to take out anything from the freezer. Le sigh. If I were graded on my performance at home, I'm afraid that I would be lucky to end up with a C for planning and follow through most days.

The kids voted for our favorite mexican place in Black Mountain, but that was on the other side of town and by the time we dropped off the car, it would be at least 6:30, which is getting kind of late for us to have dinner anyway. Robert suggested Firehouse Subs which I was heartily in favor of because their food is terrific and I love their salads. Sara was not thrilled about this because 1) they don't have any type of mac and cheese 2) they don't have Mexican food, and 3) it wasn't her preference. But once we explained the plan was Firehouse or go hungry, she came right around. ::snort::

Selfie by Sara

So we go in and order and I was impressed by Sara's ability to adapt without being a poor sport...something she has been doing a lot lately. I'm awfully proud of her (and relieved, because it was kinda dicey there for a bit). We are sitting at the table and she's glum. Robert asks her what's wrong and she says she was supposed to get a fireman hat and a krispy treat with her meal and she didn't get one. Robert suggests that she go and ask for it, but she wants us to do it. We are trying to gently encourage her to ask for what she wants versus demanding it (with us) or pouting and hoping someone notices she's unhappy (with others). Sara, who by all admissions, had been pretty awesome so far, decided she didn't want to go ask herself, so she sat unhappily with us at the table.

We carried on with our meal, and Sara got increasingly frustrated with us. I mean, sure. How dare we be so happy and carefree when the world owed her a hat and krispy treat? (Actually, I really do get that...) She tried the 'But I'm still hunnnngggrrrryyyyyy' bit so I offered her a bite of my delicious (no that's actually not sarcasm) grilled chicken salad. She was not interested. So I choo-choo train-ed a bite towards her mouth. She was fighting not to laugh but also embarrassed at that, so she turned to face the wall. I poked her (very gently) with my fork and then ate the bite of salad.

S: "HEY! What did you do that for?!?"
Me: ::chewing thoughtfully:: Hmm...that bite was a little sour. Sour and a touch bitter...
S: Don't poke me with your fork. Poke yourself!

I just hope I'm not scarring her for life.

Me: ::pokes my own arm with my fork and puts the fork in my mouth:: Yummmm! That's much better. It's really sweet! Want to try?!
Robert and Tucker burst out laughing and Sara claps her hand over her mouth so we can't see that she's laughing too.
S: Yuck. No, I don't want to try it.
Me: You don't know what you're missing! S: Whatever!


Good times, people. Good times.