Ollie entered the house this morning while I was indulging in a favourite post-Thanksgiving activity, i.e., eating toasted squash seeds.
Maybe he’d like to try some, I thought as he tossed his coat on a chair.
While spelling out a new word atop a cedar chest we practiced our letters. He got them all, and enjoyed adding 3,000 more seeds to the mix.
I ate a few.
“These are so good,” I said. “Want to try some?”
“I don’t eat seeds,” Ollie replied.
I ate a few more.
“They’re crunchy and tasty.”
["A true contrarian": photos GAH]
“I don’t eat seeds.”
While eating a few more I again realized my grandson is a contrarian, just like his Nanna, and I should try a new angle.
“Don’t eat any of my seeds,” I said.
Ollie, soon to be three, stopped playing and looked at me thoughtfully, and I felt I had him this time.
“No. I don’t eat seeds,” he said.
And so far today, he has been true to his word.
***
He’s one smart cookie, my grandson.
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