Today, I experienced one of the true joys of fatherhood - sharing a treat with the baby.
My wife & I eat a lot of soy yogurt. Well, I eat a lot of soy yogurt; she has some on occasion, and some real yogurt, and frequently no yogurt. I like the soy stuff and am a little wary about the real stuff. Not that I don't eat it; I'm just careful about eating it.
My favorite two flavors are vanilla (boring, I know; but, astute readers know that I'm hardly an exciting person) and peach. Today, I had the peach; yesterday, we shared the vanilla.
I sat down on the floor with him. When he saw the soy yogurt, he came running. That's not surprising; soy yogurt has a lot of sugar in it, which is weird for the baby. He doesn't get sugar from non-fruit sources, so something that is as sweet as the soy yogurt is very, very different. Oh, also note that "running," in this case, means crawling urgently. I gave him a little bit, then ate a spoonful. Gave him a little bit, ate a spoonful. This continued until the small tub of yogurt was completed.
At this time, he turned a baleful eye upon me and proceed to complain, loudly and at length, that there was no more soy yogurt. I explained that it was a small container, but he was having none of it.
Granted, this was a tough day for him. I heated some water in the microwave, and when I took it out, it exploded and sprayed the two of us with near-boiling water. That did not make either one of us happy. Soon afterwards, he flipped his play table upside down, and it landed on his fingers. AND, because I had a work-related thing this morning, I carted him around to three or four different classrooms, depriving him of his normal morning nap.
Still, he's a good boy, and quite funny and endearing.