We Should Be Ashamed

Tonight, we ate Whitley's famous white bean chili for dinner. Yum. As usual, Smith had a hard time focusing on his food. Although we goaded and prodded him, Smith only managed to eat a couple handfuls of corn chips by the time Whitley and I reached the bottom of our bowls. Then, inspiration struck my wife.

Whitley put down her spoon and turned to Smith. "Smith, I want to tell you a secret about beans. They make you toot." Smith froze. His eyes widened, and a smile began to form on his face. I saw an opportunity. "You know Smith, I ate all my beans, and my toots are going to be a lot bigger than yours tonight." In case you have missed it, Smith has a competitive streak unsurpassed by any three-year-old in history. "And unless you finish your chili," I continued, "your toots won't be as loud or big as mine."

And that was all it took. Smith grabbed his spoon with conviction and dug in. He ate his chili in heaping spoonfuls, cramming his mouth with beans until sauce dribbled down his chin. After every few bites, Smith stood up on the couch, clenched his fists, flared his nostrils, and flexed his tooting muscles. "Watch this," he dared me. Right then I thought to myself, "this is parenting at its finest."