I was making cooked carrots for supper, and Elliot and Pierce both asked for a raw carrot. I gave them each one, and they left the kitchen. A few minutes later, they walked back in. Elliot was telling Pierce how it was going to go.
“I tell on you, you tell on me.”
She turned to me just that fast.
“We threw our carrots in the garbage.”
Turns out, she’ll tell on them both.
Apparently, raw carrots were not what they thought they were getting.
Elliot hates soup. Chili is especially not her favorite. We ate chili the other day. Eden was desperate to get Elliot to eat her soup. No one wants to hear her heartbreak over not getting her second cornbread muffin because she didn’t finish her soup.
Eden held the spoon out. “Ellie, say ‘me gusta chili’.”
“No me gusta.”
It repeated like that, over and over and over. “No me gusta.” She’d take a bite, cringe, chew, and swallow. “No me gusta.” Straight faced, Elliot knows like ten words in Spanish. She uses it liberally, as if she’s entirely bilingual.
For the record, Eden won. She got Elliot to finish. But she never won the “me gusta” fight.
Elliot no gusta chili.