Luke is a picky eater. I was a horribly picky eater. I remember evenings stuck at the table because I wouldn't eat what was being served. I remember bribes to try to get me to eat.
All day Luke has been asking for a sandwich. We don't have bread and he won't eat store bought bread. Finally the bread is risen for the second time and in the oven. He just walked into the kitchen (after asking for a sandwich every 15 minutes since 8am) and said, "I don't like bread".
Yesterday he declined a cookie so I took a bite, then he wanted it. I handed it to him and he looked it over and said, "there's a bite missing". I explained why I took a bite and he said, "but I want the bite that was right there". My mom, of course, finds all of this very amusing. She always tell the story of how a neighbor gave me a cookie and I threw it on the ground because it was broken. In my defense I remember thinking that if a cookie was missing pieces someone must have taken a bite and I didn't want to eat a cookie someone had taken a bite of.
I turned on last nights Daily Show rerun this morning and when Luke heard Jon Stewart say Barack Obama he started parading around the house pumping his arms in the air chanting, "Barack Obama, Barack Obama". Just one of those words he likes I guess.
UPDATE: Bread out of the oven, Luke finally got his sandwich only to pronounce it "too hot" (it was luke warm). After it cooled it was too "gooey" because "the water was too hot" when I added it to the bread. I did comment while the bread was getting ready to raise that I hoped the water wasn't too hot. In the end he ate one bite and went off to take a nap.
The Wedding
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