Despite dramatic medical diagnosis, life goes on.
Last night, I made pot pie for dinner which is a favorite of several of the children...but not all (seriously, with eight people in the household I can pretty much guarentee that someone is going to HATE whatever we are having for dinner. You just can't please 'em all.)
Well, tonight it was Logan's turn to be distraught over my dinner choice. When I called the kids in for dinner he saw what was on the table and immediately collapsed in a crying heap on the floor screaming "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" at the top of his sad lungs.
He then wrapped himself in his favorite blanket and proceeded to tell me that if I tried to serve him pot pie he would never eat again for the rest of his life (he can be a little bit dramatic too). I calmly informed him that if he never ate again he would wither away and die. He said he didn't care because nothing I could do would get him to eat a single bite of pot pie. That sounds like a dare. I just can't ignore a good dare.
He wailed and cried and moaned and gnashed his terrible teeth and showed his terrible claws, but I did not relent. I am not a short order cook. I do not cater to dinner tantrums (although I do try to be sure there is something on the table that everyone can consume so they won't starve).
I eventually got him stationed in his seat (after a stint in the naughty corner for talking back) where he watered his dinner with tears.
However, his anger couldn't last forever and eventually he gave in and ate his salad and managed to choke down a couple of bites of pot pie. Eveyone survived and no tummies were harmed in the process. It was just a normal, DeMoux evening. Just like I like them. Silly kids, they make everything more exciting.