So one day we had grilled cheese sandwiches and "dip." Mia's first V8 was on a fatty fat fried piece of bread and cheese. When her sandwich was gone we told her she could drink the rest of her dip if she wanted. She wanted. But it was hard for her to drink it out of the bowl, so we transferred it to a cup. A few months later, after a few more grilled cheese sandwich dipping experiences, she asked out of the blue for dip in a cup. To drink.
This morning, she said she was thirsty, and I asked her if she wanted milk or juice. Guess what she wanted? Veggies in a glass. Don't anyone ever call it that within her hearing- the only easy thing at our house will be gone. Zach gags everytime he thinks of the stuff. I can down it, but not without squinting a little. Mia? I handed her the cup and she said "MmmMMmmm! Diiiiiiiiip," the same way Homer says "Doughnuuuuuts."
I realize I can't complain about the peeling, boiling, steaming, cutting, buttering, and salting. After I go to all that trouble, she actually eats those veggies, too. Pretty cool kid. So, Mia twenty years from now, here's to you. Thanks. I didn't thank you back in the day, because I'm pretty sure telling you that you were doing something preschoolers are supposed to avoid and throw tantrums over would have had a bad effect. And we wouldn't want that, now- would we.