Neiner

Today, Michael took Connor and I to get some soup at Jason's deli (are any of you surprised?). Well, I had soup, Connor stuck with his boring old milk.

While we were sitting there, a table behind us was occupied by 4 young boys and their father. I would guesstimate that the ages of the boys were 6, 4 and 2 year old twins.

This is what we heard repeatedly, and by repeatedly, I mean at least 40 times. This number is not an exaggeration.

"Eat your Neiner."

Now this was said one of three ways each time. One was a nice and positive suggestion. One was a sympathetic plea. And one was an angry growl through gritted teeth. I don't know if he was really angry, or trying to sound very mean and threatening, but either way, Michael and I did everything we could to not laugh - to no avail.

Eat your Neiner. EAT YOUR Neiner. PLEASE EAT YOUR NEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEINER

Oh, "Neiner" means hot dog. Also, we are pretty sure this man is the same voice of the "Honey Badger" narrorator.

I'm still laughing.

Michael and I both thought quietly to ourselves, this is NOT how we want to parent when Connor is two.

Because, you know, Connor will obey the first time we ask. <---Yeah. Right.
AND we won't say words like "Neiner." <---Yeah. Right.
AND he won't be eating hot dogs. <--- That part is true.

I've heard however, that when parents say "I will NEVER do that," they end up doing exactly that which they would not like to do.