It's a wonder my boys grow at all for how little supper they actually eat. The dog on the other hand has a full belly and the cat is down right fat. All because of the daily battle to get them to eat their supper.
Serving anything that can't be dipped in ketchup is reason enough for them to dance their fork around their plate and not eat more than a few bites in an hour. Reiley has mostly grown out of this, though he is still a fussy eater. Owen is still working on finding ways to avoid cleaning his plate. Someday I'm sure his honesty won't interfere with his plans of escaping the table, but not yet.
This evening was no different than any other. Long after we'd finished our own supper, and left Owen at the table he calls to me and asks if he's done. "I'm asking you Mom, not Dad, just you. Am I done?" Cosy on the couch avoiding the battle, and with Martin near by, I tell him to ask his Dad. "But I don't want to ask Dad" Owen replies "He knows I'm not done."