Luke ate a snack at 4:30, and then at 5, decided that he would waste away to nothing if he didn't have another, so he climbed up into his high chair and moaned pitifully, "Eat, eat, eeeeaaaattt, pleeeeeaaaaase!"
Me: Luke. You JUST ate.
Luke: Pleeeeeaaaaaase. Eat.
Me: Sigh. Fine. What do you want to eat?
Luke: Carrots.
*As an aside, we've offered this child carrots 850 times in the past. Every time, his reaction has been something along the lines of Ew-what's-this-gross-orange-stuff-on-my-plate-let-me-throw-it-at-the-dog. For the past two days, however, he's been living off the carrots from a chicken soup that I made. Apparently, the trick was to cook the carrots in chicken broth.*
Me: We don't have carrots. How about peas?
Luke: No peas!
Me: Broccoli?
Luke: No yuck broccoli!
Me: So what do you want?
Luke: Bread. It's up there, see? *Points to the top of the fridge.*
Because clearly, I would have no idea where the bread was located without his assistance.
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