Sobbing, four year old Daughter stared defiantly back at me.
“Yogurt,” she choked.
“No!” I said for the third time.
Exactly why I chose to dig in my heels over her third yogurt is one of the great Mommy Mysteries. Sometimes, we aren’t capable of choosing our battles. They choose us.
Daughter, however, inherited not only the color of my eyes and my odd penchant for launching into one of a few alternate characters at any moment, but also my own particular strain of stubbornness. She can dig in her heels with equal gusto. The result? At times I resort to childish behavior to break the cycle.
Hence, when she wouldn’t budge and hand over the yogurt, I grabbed it from her tightly clenched fingers and pulled it away.
(You can decide who was acting more like a four year old at this point.)
