Yesterday morning, Zoe decided to be a puppy. Naturally, this meant eating her breakfast like a puppy. Which meant sticking her face in the food.
Call me Miss Manners, but this is not the kind of behavior I support at the breakfast table. So we had the following conversation:
Me: Eat with your hands please, Puppy.
Zoe: I don’t have hands. (Holds up her hands.) I have paws.
Me: Okay, then. Eat with your paws, please, Puppy.
Zoe: But I can’t. I’m a puppy!
Perfect logic. How can a mother argue with that?