Friday, September 11, 2009
I turn around from the mirror in time to see Sparta's eyes wander the kitchen cupboard contents and light up upon spying a packet of those long "cigarette" cookies.
I whip my toothbrush out of my mouth long enough to exclaim, "ONE cookie! Not two cookies! My grandma gave me those and we have to make them last," as he reaches for them a little more enthusiastically than I am comfortable with.
I'm not always so possessive about food, but Sparta can take down a bag of cookies faster than I ever thought possible. We tried buying a bag each recently, which only resulted in him finishing both his bag, plus half of mine before I had time to say, "mmm, chocolate-chippy."
I give him a toothpaste-y glare to let him know I mean it.
He responds by shoving two of the cookies in his mouth and protesting, "but baby, I'm being a walrus!"
How can I argue?