Monday, September 24, 2007
I made Ethan a grilled cheese sandwhich and he is presently proceding to stick his pointer finger in the soft cheese like its play dough. He then licks the grease off his finger and says, "Good cheese." I am sitting at the table next to him, legs crossed and bouncing from the two cups of STRONG coffee I had about three hours ago. I am anxious; I want him to eat that darn sandwhich. He is taking his time. Poke, poke, poke. We are progressing now. He is picking the cheese off the sandwhich in ant size bites and then sucking on the pieces. And then he says it: "All done." And its over. Another lunch dumped in the garbage.