What's the magic word?

Just like I did with Bean, I work hard to teach Squish sign language and communication skills. I also try to teach her to have some manners. While Bean picked up on signing quickly, Squish wants nothing to do with it. She learned "milk" quickly, because she knew it would instantly result in food entering her stomach. We've tried teaching her to sign "more" or "please," but it's falling on (pardon the terrible pun) deaf ears. She would much rather shriek like a teradactyl being dismembered with a spoon.

Now Squish loves her food. The girl can pack it away like a truck driver who's been on a starvation diet for the last month or so. She has literally out-eaten me on some days, and I'm no light-weight. She has a much more limited vocabulary than Bean did at this age, but the few words she does say are adorable. No, I'm not biased. Even the mailman will concur. So we've tried adding "please" and "more" to her vocabulary. She's not interested... even when there's food involved.

In my Imperfect Mama day-mares, I imagine her as an adult, demanding more food in a restaurant with an ear-piercing shriek.

A couple of weeks ago, I came home with some Italian beefs from our favorite beef restaurant. If you're unfortunate enough to live in a city without Italian beefs, I pity you. As the delicious smells wafted from my paper bag, she toddled over to me with dilated pupils. I hoped for a sweet welcome "Mama!" or something similar. Instead, my darling little cherub grabbed hold of my shorts with both hands, and with the urgency of a dying wish demanded "FEED ME!"

So much for manners.