Tonight I roasted a chicken (yum!). Sam protested from the time the bird went in the oven that he didn't want chicken. "You don't have a choice," we told him. "Look around. What's this room?"
"And where is this kitchen?"
"In our house."
This is our new thing. The kitchen is in our house which means he doesn't get a choice.
We started out with a whine rating of about 9 but by the time the food was on the table he was finished and he ate (and not with the constant "eat, eat" chorus we usually give). I told them this was a practice for Thursday and Nana's - maybe that's why he was in a good mood. He got to point out things Kate was doing that wouldn't be appropriate on Thanksgiving at Nana's.
Kate pounded down the chicken and potatoes.
I guess last night when I was out with my migraine they both ate the leftover broccoli beef stir-fry that Craig heated up for himself - and Sam had absolutely refused to eat it the night before. Go figure.