My Funny Boy

For the last few weeks, my little man has been obsessed with blueberries. It’s winter in Wisconsin. I paid $5 yesterday for a tiny container of blueberries.

Every time we put him in his highchair, “Blueberries!” he exclaims. We explain to him what is on the menu, and even if blueberries aren’t on the list, we usually cave and give him a handful of the tiny blue gems. What? The kid cares about antioxidants, apparently.

But back to the funny part.

One night, he wanted nothing but blueberries. But blueberries do not equal dinner. So, we prompted him.

“Riley, do you want cheese?”

“No.”

“How about black beans?”

“No.”

“…toast?”

“No.”

“Chicken?”

“No.”

“Yogurt?”

“No.”

“Riley, what do you want to eat?”

He paused. He put his finger to his mouth, deep in thought.

“Hmmmm….” he said, pondering. “…..blueberries?”

He asked it in the form of a question and that’s what got me. We laughed hard. So hard. It was like he discovered some toddler form of comedic timing. He knew we were at our wits end. And he used it to his advantage.

But that’s not all. Any time he wants to make us laugh, he says the magic word.

Finger to his lips, deep in fake thought, he’ll meekly say, “Hmmm……blueberries?”

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