Lunchtime

The table is groaning with food: sausages, coleslaw, tuna salad and stuffed tomatoes. Surely there is something there that the Fussy Ones will try?
Emily, to her credit, takes a little bit of everything, tries it all, and says it's OK. Phoebe wrinkles her nose and says she hasn't decided what she wants yet.
"I'm very hungry, Daddy!"
"Good, because we've lots of food here that needs to be eaten up."
"Can I have some water, please, Daddy."
"Here you are, my love." I push her glass closer to her.
She picks up her spoon and waves it in front of her in an I-can't-quite-make-up-my-mind sort of way. She glances at me to gauge my likely response to her next question.
"Daddy, after I've eaten, can I have some chocolate?"
"Yes, my love, of course you can."
"Thank you Daddy, you're the best Daddy!"
She beams at me, her expression full of barely concealed cunning, and carefully dips her spoon into her glass.
She swallows the 5ml of water.
"Yum, this is delicious!"
She takes another spoonful.
"This is lovely, Daddy!"
And a third.
"I think I'm full now, Daddy. Can I have some chocolate, please?"
I answer in the negative, and a fourth spoonful is deposited over my stuffed tomato.
"Here's some lovely water for you, Daddy!"