Sometimes I Wish I Were More Like My Daughter (or the benefits of silliness)

  For months, my grandson's favorite snack was cinnamon graham cookies shaped like dog biscuits. My grandson loved these silly treats and my daughter was thrilled when she came across them in snack-sized bags that he could bring to preschool with him. Every day she packed the same snack: grape tomatoes or baby carrots, a cheese stick, some crackers, and his favorite treat, cinnamon graham dog biscuits. Sometimes the cheese stick or one of the tomatoes came home with him, but always the crackers were gone and the small bag of cinnamon grahams empty. 

That is, until a few weeks ago. Though he still seemed to like the cinnamon grahams when snacking at home, his Spiderman lunchbox now came back with an unused napkin and unopened bag cinnamon grahams. 

    We aren't going to buy them anymore if you aren't going to eat them, my daughter said, emptying his lunchbox and opening the bag of biscuits to eat herself.  

     OK, my grandson said, though he didn't mind munching a few biscuits with my daughter.

     How come you don't like these cookies in your lunchbox anymore? I asked my grandson one  afternoon when he came to my house after school. I had just pulled out a neatly folded napkin and the unopened bag of cinnamon grahams.

     Because Kenny teases me. He says I eat dog biscuits. 

   Hmmmm... a teachable moment, I thought. Well, maybe you should tell Kenny that the biscuits were really delicious cookies, I said,  and offer him a  cookie to try.  

   My grandson didn't seem convinced but I texted my daughter to at least tell her that the mystery of the unopened cookies had been solved.

    Peer pressure starts young. I texted. Kenny told your son he eats dog biscuits.

    I know! my daughter texted back. He told me that already. I told him to eat them anyway and bark at Kenny.

   I laughed. I bet Kenny would laugh too. Sometimes silliness is the best teacher. It might even be the beginning of a beautiful toddler friendship.