Apologies from now, son, for I force feed you all sorts of weird food combinations, and when you squeal to be released from the torture of high-chair prison, I still go at it with the spoon to see if anther mouthful will be taken in. Usually not. You are becoming an obstinate one I see…
Today’s delight is a mash-up of baby rice cereal, banana, yoghurt and mummabear milk. I smash it all together with a fork and do not take no for an answer. Soon enough you submit to my theatrics as I spoon feed you the nutritious goop, and before long, there is nary a scrap left in your bowl.
Son, you now wear the milky mustache of one satisfied patron of Alice’s Diner.