In our household, we have the [loosely enforced] rule that treats are only allowed on the weekend. Also, she is only allowed one treat after each meal, totaling one treat after dinner on Friday, three treats on Saturday and three on Sunday. Simple, right? Easy to enforce, right?
So 45-year-old man of the world picks up his daughter from school on Friday.
From the back seat in a voice that could melt butter: “Daddy, can I have a cookie and a popsicle tonight?”
Daddy: “No, you can only have one treat. Which would you like?”
“I think I would like a popsicle. I’ll share it with you, daddy.” [cue big smile and doe eyes]
“You can have a cookie for your treat, okay daddy?”
This is the moment when daddy loses focus, like a cop in a bad 80s movie whose poor partner [played by a no-name actor] is about to get shot.
Now half paying attention, daddy mumbles: “Okay sweetie.”
“And you will share your cookie with me, right daddy?”