We took our little chap to a cafe yesterday. Having popped him into a highchair, we ordered him some ‘bapple juice’ and, as doting parents and grandparents must do many times a day, fell for the Children’s Menu’s promise of a ‘Shortbread Sheep’. With indulgent smiles we ordered this sugary treat for our sweet boy who had been pretty much a paragon all morning since he’d woken, singing to us from his cot.
When the biscuit arrived, wrapped in cellophane, on a small white plate, Oli stared at it in disbelief, quickly followed by a broad smile of sheer delight, turning to each of us in turn, laughing with pleasure. It was a lovely moment and we too laughed and smiled
Seconds later the mood changed dramatically as, in his excitement, he bashed the plate down on the table whereupon the sheep broke in half and its nose fell off.
Bum!
Now he looked between Dave and me with horror, and our hearts sank. The poor little man was heartbroken. I tried to make light of what was clearly really ‘heavy, man’, dancing the two pieces together and pulling them apart again with a jolly laugh and a little song. For a moment I thought I’d cracked it. But then he picked up the chocolate nose and looked at me, beseechingly. ‘Doze’ he said, with a quiver in his voice.
Thus we carried on for a few minutes, with me pointing out that this was in fact food of a sort and ‘look, the other children are eating theirs’. Eventually his sad expression turned to one of disgust at which point he threw the sorry little biscuit pieces to the floor and began to wail.
In hindsight, it’s obvious that there is never going to be a good result when a child forms an emotional attachment to a biscuit.
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