My daughter was snacking heartily from a bag of cheddar Goldfish crackers. This after complaining she was hungry, even though she had just finished lunch. That girl can eat. She reached in, fishing for another. Kindly, she offered it to me.
“You hungry, Mommy?”, Abby asked.
“No, thank you. You can eat those, they’re for you”, I said.
Abby was unsatisfied with my answer, however. She continued standing before me stoically, searching my facial expressions for any signs of impending weakness. Surely, my mind would change. My daughter was determined to give me a damn cracker. A 3 year old enabler.
“Fine”, I relented. “I’ll take just one. But only one.” Because there’s always room for at least one Goldfish.
“OK, just one”, my daughter cheered, opening the bag wide enough to fit her head inside. Then, a single cheesy cracker fish swam into the palm of my hand. And then another.
Those fish, they just kept swimming uncontrollably.
Before I knew it, I was holding on to a handful of small orange Goldfish, with a little girl pushing more into my mouth. When I clearly remember specifying I only wanted one. Just one. The magnificent powers of persuasion. Not to mention a really cute kid. Then, half the bag was gone. How does that happen?