The other day, Son #2 and I were finishing up our supper. Everyone else had eaten their food quickly. This left us alone at the table so we decided to move to the living room floor. I turned on the television and flipped through the stations until we landed on something funny. Then, I focused on feeding my distracted toddler.
Son #2 pranced around me in circles as I fed him bites of food. I was hungry for my own food. However, I was determined to help my youngest son finish the last few morsels on his plate. Son #2 was not interested in eating anything. My little baby rolled back and forth trying to ward off sleep. My mouth watered as I gazed at the food on his plate. I shrugged. My youngest son wasn't going to miss a bite of food and I was starving. I popped the food into my mouth.
Son #2 paused mid-roll and stared as I chewed the food. He stood up and walked angrily to where I sat. Then, he held his hand out and demanded. "Mouth! Mouth!"
I shook my head defiantly. Then, I said. "No baby. The food is in my mouth."
Son #2 would not be dissuaded. He held his hand out again and practically shouted. "Mouth!"
I wrinkled my brow and asked. "Do you want me to spit it out and feed it to you like a mother bird?"
Son #2 nodded in agreement. "Mouth." He held his hand out expectantly.
I can't imagine why my young son would want my chewed up food. Maybe he watched a PBS special on mother birds and their young. Maybe he was trying to reenact the process of feeding baby birds. Maybe he just didn't want to share his food. Either way, I don't sneak bites from his plate anymore.