Who Can Say Where the Mind Goes?

Forgive me for being confused. One night, Hannah ate all of her broccoli and most of mine. She couldn't get enough. Great. Tonight, I made her favourite standby: chicken fingers and sweet potato fries. I served it. I also made broccoli, but it wasn't quite ready at the same time. Moments after delivering the first part of her meal, I added some delicious broccoli smothered in CheezWhiz (just the way she likes it). Suddenly, she pushed her plate away and started to cry. "I don't want broccoli! Why did you put broccoli there? I don't want any dinner any more!"

Seriously?

"Fine," I told her. "Don't eat the broccoli."

But no, the whole meal was ruined. Because I had the audacity to think she might actually like some broccoli. Because I was trying to cater to the crazy whims of a 3-year-old. How foolish of me.