I took Kelly to see Cats and Dogs today. Not too bad, with just enough subtext to keep a juvenile adult interested. Kelly of course loved it. Afterwards I took her across the street to Baskin Robbins, where she had a scoop of orange sherbet, and a scoot of 'margarita', a sorta lime sherbet. When she finished, she told me "that was really good. It was so good I could use another."
I said I didn't want to spoil her supper, so no more ice cream. She thought a moment and said, "it doesn't even have to be two scoops..." then gauging my facial response, "or it could even be a small single scoop..."
"No Kelly, I'm sorry. After dinner you can have a little ice cream at home."
You have to have a six year-old to appreciate how treating someone to ice cream can turn into a major human rights violation. I ain't gettin' no gratitude here, ya know what I mean?
Addendum
After dinner now, Kelly is getting her 'little' bit of ice cream and has begun to negotiate again. "That's all?" Yep, I say. "Just a sliver more will do," she says. By this time I'm cracking up. You're always negotiating, I say. So I give her her 'sliver' of extra ice cream. As I walk away, I hear her say to Jean, "now, my cookie."
The final moment which sent me racing for the keyboard: "just one?"
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