Last night, DW had BodyPump. So it was up to me to feed the kids and get them to bed.
DW and I decided on home-made Pizza. She'd opened a can of pasta sauce in a rather vain attempt to get the kids to eat their pasta. So she got a Boboli from the store. I gasped in mock horror when I noticed that she got whole wheat pizza crust. It brought back bad memories of carob covered raisins and god knows what else my mother bought from the local hippie co-op.
I moved past the whole wheat aspect and the kids and I made pizza. Spinach on their half, cheese on mine. We sat down and the kids ate just fine. Until LittleBrother noticed that I didn't have spinach. He looked at his own, trying to figure out if he could separate the spinach from the cheese and crust. He looked at me. Then the pizza again.
He pointed to my pizza. "Mo."
"No, buddy, you eat yours first."
That set off his normal response to hearing no. The 10 second descent from normal happy LB to utter horror and crying. Here's the thing. I waited him out. I WON. 8 painful minutes later, he was happily eating his spinach pizza, and had forgotten about mine.
I consider this no small victory. It probably won't last, but at least for one shining moment, I outlasted the child.