If there is one word to describe Zachary right now, (besides the obvious: brilliant, adorable and amazing) I'd call him fickle. This was taken to an entirely different level when I tried to figure out what he wanted for dinner last night. I was scouring the contents of the fridge, listing off items that might catch his attention. I asked if he wanted noodles, chicken, carrots, cheese, and all I got was a resounding, "NO."
I kept going to some of the odder items in the fridge, "How about a pickle Zachary?"
He surprised me by saying, "Otay Momma. Zaza want FICKLE!" Not surprisingly, by the time I got the jar out of the fridge, and was handing him the pickle, he says, "No, no fickle Momma."
I ended up cutting a smiley face into a piece of lunch meat. He refused it without eyes and ears, but gobbled it up happily when it smiled back at him.
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