You don't want that. Really, you don't...

Youngest looked in the Frigidaire for more lunch. He had finished his yogurt, but wanted something else.

“See anything you want?” I asked while I fixed my lunch.

“I want the marshmallows, Mommy!”

“The what?” I turned and looked. The container of “Fluff” on the top shelf and had been a topic of conversation with Eldest yesterday. Figuring he meant something different, I instructed, “Show me what you mean.”

“This stuff, Mommy.” He pointed much lower than the top shelf.

“You won’t like that. It’s not marshmallow.”

“Yes, it IS, Mommy!”

Now was the time for fast thinking. Should I let him have it? Should I argue or explain? Time for a lesson to be learned, I decided. “Get a spoon and sit at the table,” I instructed as I grabbed the small bowl from the bottom shelf. All smug now, he happily climbed back in his booster seat. I decided this was too good to miss and sat in my regular seat across from him. Youngest shoved a big spoonful of BAKING SODA into his mouth. His frantic clawing at his mouth reminded me of when Hubby put wasabi on some tuna and the cat found it.

“The next time Mommy tells you to leave something alone because you won’t like it, maybe you’ll listen. Drink some tea.”

The baking soda had only been placed the day before, so I doubt it had any strange flavors. Even a tablespoon of baking soda wouldn’t hurt him. So far I’ve only told his father, sisters, and grandmothers. So far… ;)