Let Them Eat Cake

We have leftover cake tonight.

As Middle finished dinner, she asked, "Mom, can I have that piece of cake?"

Well, no. She can't have that piece of cake. That piece of cake was a full quarter of the cake, which I'd cut last night but hadn't divided into smaller pieces. Half of the cake was leftover, but had been cut into the two remaining quarters. No way was I giving her an entire quarter of a chocolate cake.

She giggled when she realized it wasn't a single slice.

"You can have cake once I slice it." I cut the quarters into six relatively even slices, and Middle immediately picked out the biggest one. "That's mine!"

Sometimes, it pays to be the parent. She didn't argue. I put a slice on her plate and she dug in, with gusto.

Being that it was a fend-for-yourself night around these parts, I collected the rest of my dinner and then came out to get my cake, not trusting that my chosen piece would remain until I was done eating everything else.

Middle scraped at the frosting caught in the fluted edges of her plate, pressing in the tines of her plastic fork. "That's right," I encouraged her. "Get it all."

I stepped back into the kitchen for something and returned to the dining room...where Middle was licking the plate. I smacked the top of her head.

 She lowered the plate and gave me a look that was both sheepish and completely unrepentant. "I'm just getting every last morsel, as you advised."

I really didn't know how to argue with that.