Eating Machine

John was amazing last night. Sonya was working late. He and I got home about six.

"Cheerios? Milk?"

Why not? I gave him some milk and a bowl of Cheerios. Then I went to work on his dinner: five chicken nuggets - baked - and a can of green beans with salt and pepper and a little butter. As soon as the milk and Cheerios were gone he came into the kitchen.

"Mac and cheese?"

"Not tonight, bud. You're having chicken and green beans."

Standing in a chair at the dinner table at this point. "Mac and cheese! Mac and cheese!"

"Nope," I said, picking him up, "you're having chicken and green beans." I carried him over to the stove so he could see what I was cooking.

"Oooooh," he said, eyes wide, "green beans."

He ate all the chicken and a whole can of green beans.

He was in the tub when his mother came home. She had fried chicken with corn on the cob. He left the bathroom before I did, and when I got in the kitchen he was holding the cob and devouring corn.

And then, once the pajamas were on: "Cheerios? Milk?" So I gave him another round. He drank all the milk, but he didn't quite finish the Cheerios. I guess he would have exploded if he had. Then he fell off the couch and bumped his head. Then he went to bed. Monday's are tough. They make you hungry, too.