It's me, your Mommy, the one who brought you into this world and nourished you and fulfilled most of your needs since birth. Yes, I know I'm also the dole-er out-er of spankings and the one who tells you to stop sucking your beloved thumb, but I'm hoping all that other stuff outweighs the latter points. But here's the thing, kid, You are slowly killing me. Or at least trying to push me over the cliff to crazytown.
You see, I was a child once myself in what you would consider a LOOOOONG time ago, and the family I grew up in ate meals together. When we did this, we would put the food on the table, pick up our utensils, consume the food and drink, and then the meal would be done. Usually quickly. Arguably maybe a bit too quickly, as I've seen instances where my father and I have inhaled whole seafood platters in so short a span as to have dropped our fork at the last bite just as Ryan and Poppop Barry were finishing garnishing and preparing to begin eating their meals. So yes, I know it's a slightly skewed point of view I have, but work with me here, I do have a point.
You have got consume your meals in a more timely manner. Just got to, I say. Every. stinkin. meal. is. at. least. an. hour. long. with. you. I applaud organization in most other fields of life, but really, must you make sure you slowly nibble the skin/crust off all items of food before beginning to actually eat whatever part of the meal is left? And must macaroni noodles really be slipped painstakingly one-at-a-time onto each tine of your fork before you can eat the whole bite? And, not to be too picky, but I'd really love it if you'd just TRY to eat food that is mixed together on the same bite rather than carefully separating each morsel. Or at least, if you have to do these things, can you do them faster please? And must each meal really be topped off with a half hour of me hollering for you to PUHLEEEEEZE drink your drink (we're only talking about 6 little ounces here!). I promise you, if you do not start to drink of your own free will you are going to dry up like a cute little pink raisin with a bow in its hair and a tutu on.
And baby, if you don't do it for yourself, to expand the amount of time you have during the day for fun stuff like play and TV time, do it for your dear loving mother, who is going to lose her shmidt if I have to wait one more minute for you so that I can finally clean up the kitchen and get on with my life. As it is, I have to wait for you to finish because it is a ridiculous, futile effort to clean up around you only to have you finish and scoot out of the chair, leaving in your wake approximately 40 lbs of crumbs and possibly (probably?) a puddle of spilt milk behind you on the floor. And, I'm really starting to look more and more like a drill Sergent each meal, hollering from behind you to "pick up that cup, Missy, and take a drink, NOW!" So please baby, no more making me count out how many more bites you have to eat or instruct you in how to eat a sandwich without nibbling the crust to death. You need to eat, and do it fast. Just get it done, suck it down, and move on with your life. Please. Before I lose my ever-lovin mind.
Love and kisses,
p.s. I hope you know now why I break into tears when you ask for "more, please" after finally finishing your meal. They are not happy tears.