The Snitch

I have been trying to make a valiant effort to reign in Micah's eating this summer. Things have been going actually far better than I thought it would, so that's good. All by himself, this morning, he got just one egg out and one piece of toast instead of 2 of each.

Small steps. He's making them. It's awesome.

But he still has this addiction to Sheetz hot dogs. With bacon. And while they're not horrific, one certainly can't make a diet of them either. (What kid doesn't grow up on hot dogs? And as far as hot dogs go, Sheetz makes some pretty good ones.) Sometimes Micah is satisfied if I make him a hot dog at home, but sometimes he just wants the independence of touch-screen ordering himself. Mostly so he can get bacon on his hot dog, I think. I guess everything really is better with bacon.

But there was that one day that he insisted that he needed to go to Sheetz and get a hot dog, and I was just as adamant that he wasn't going. I had no other reason to be in town, and I was not making a special trip for him to get his bacon/hot dog fix. I just wasn't. He didn't need it. I said no.

And then I decided that we could probably go out for dinner that evening since the boys were at camp and it was just Becky and Micah and daddy and I. It would be a fun treat. So I told Micah that we could eat out when daddy came home, and maybe he could ask daddy very nicely if we could.

Daddy came home, and I reminded Micah that he needed to ask daddy something. So Micah sidled up to him, gave him a great big side hug, and said, "HOT DOG, POP, MOM, NO!!!"

Because in his world, things aren't righted until he can tattletale on someone who has wronged him.

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