In a stunning (for me) exercise of foresight, I did my grocery shopping today for Thanksgiving and beyond. Anna was kind of a weenie in the cart when she got bored, but a relative angel at the checkout, so we'll call it a wash. I don't know why the Goldfish crackers which were sheer heaven last shopping trip were cast away with a howl this time, but whatever. She's two like that sometimes.
Yesterday, in fact, she was having some kind of irrational cracker spaz-out before dinner. She asks for crackers or Goldfish a lot, and I was going to let her have some as I was getting dinner ready. I even let her choose. Power to the two-year-old people and all that. Goldfish, graham cracker sticks, or regular crackers--she pointed at the regular crackers and surprisingly did not demand the opposite .75 seconds later.
However, there was an opened sleeve of the same crackers on the counter already, so I gave her one of those. NO WAY. CRACKERS is what I demand, you tricksy mama! THOSE CRACKERS, FROM THE BOX. I tried to show her that they're the same. That one's not open; this one is. See, I'll demonstrate how good they are.
NO YOU WILL NOT, I WILL SMACK IT AWAY FROM YOU TOO, CRACKERS FROM THE BOX NOW OR I WILL DIEEEEEEEEE HERE ON THIS KITCHEN FLOOR! CRAAAAAAACKERRRRRRRRR!
A tad dramatic sometimes, that one.
I tried to get her in her chair and started on some food--there were actual tears by now. Pasta and cracker were rejected. Fishsticks were grudgingly accepted since they arrived with a side of banana. When all else fails, resistance to the banana is futile. And it works as a gateway drug to fishsticks and crackers. Even crackers from a previously opened sleeve.
Whatever, girl. You can have your crackers moods; I have the bananas. And she who holds the bananas will always be victorious.