My daughter is like a slot machine: old people love her, she makes
a lot of loud noises and I keep pouring money into her. But lately, parenting is feeling even more like a gamble because she won’t let me hand her food directly. I have to put whatever I want her to eat on the tray of her high chair, then she picks it up herself, inspects it and decides if she’ll accept it. It’s like handing a blackjack dealer money in Vegas: sometimes some of what I give her comes back to me, but mostly I just get back shit.
a lot of loud noises and I keep pouring money into her. But lately, parenting is feeling even more like a gamble because she won’t let me hand her food directly. I have to put whatever I want her to eat on the tray of her high chair, then she picks it up herself, inspects it and decides if she’ll accept it. It’s like handing a blackjack dealer money in Vegas: sometimes some of what I give her comes back to me, but mostly I just get back shit.
Comments
Post a Comment