Deal.....or No Deal....

Our constant quest to get our 3 year old son to eat anything but chicken and hot dogs turned ugly last night. So ugly, I decided to tape it (it was either that or scream into a pillow - which I did anyway). He is hard headed - I guess the politically correct word nowadays is "willful". Whatever. To me I'm being nice calling it hard headed. My husband and I were determined to get him to eat the rotisserie chicken I bought, as well as the mashed potatos and broccoli I made. The face on my 3 year old when we set the plate in front of him said it all. Then it began. "I don't like that chicken. Where is MY chicken. I don't like mashed tatos". It went downhill from there. My husband, settling in for the fight, calmly told our son he wasn't getting up from the table until he at least took a bite of everything. "How do you know you don't like it?" he asked. "You haven't even tried it". Thirty minutes of this went on. My oldest finally whispered in his fathers ear to use the trick he used a few weeks back. Basically my husband pretends he's a complete idiot and doesn't know how to use his fork and spoon and asks our 3 year old how he does it. Kudos to my oldest. That trick at least got his little brother eating his mashed potatos. (I knew we weren't wasting all that money on a private school for nothing!) On to the brocolli. After another 20 minutes of making jokes about eating trees, and cutting down a normal size piece of broccoli to something barely seen by a microscope, we finally got him to choke down the miniscule morsel. And by choke, I mean CHOKE. I literally thought all our hard work was going to go to waste. As he gagged and coughed I envisioned all those little potatos coming back up. But thankfully, they stayed down as he chugged down half his milk. And lo and behold, he actually said he liked the broccoli. By now I am cleaning up and my oldest has moved on to dessert. My husband and youngest are still in a battle of wills to the death over the last hurdle.....the chicken. My son was not budging. His dad reiterrated again that he wasn't going to get up from that table until he tried it. "You can sleep here if you have to" I heard him say. My 3 year old, using all the preschool education we've paid good money for countered with "I'm not hungry." So there. How are you going to argue with no hunger? What were we to do. No trickery was going to work this time. He had figured out his father really wasn't stupid and DID know how to use a fork and spoon so that wasn't going to work this time. No, my husband had to pull out the big guns. Out came.......the M&M's. Yes, that's right, I'm embarrassed to say it. My husband started with 6 m&m's. "Son, if you eat one little bite of chicken I'll give you six, count 'em, six m&m's" as he laid them in a nice line in front of his plate. My son's face lighted up "6 nem-nem's for eating my potatos?" You have to give him credit for trying. "No" said my husband. His face sank. What to do? You could see him struggling. Then the crying began. "I don't want that chicken. I don't like that chicken." After 5 minutes - No Deal. My husband upped the anty. "Buddy, if you eat all your chicken I will give you the whole bag" as he piled up all the m&m's from the bag in front of him. This was getting interesting. Still, No Deal. My husband took a break to play with our oldest before bed and asked me to just keep an eye on him so he didn't shove all the m&m's in his mouth while we weren't looking. Mommy's turn. After a few minutes, I walked over and tried to wave the chicken in front of him and reminded him of the m&m's. I even cut the piece down for him. No Deal. Finally I asked him what it would take for him to eat that chicken. He thought about it and said "A sleep over with Day-Day" his brother. (Basically this is the 2 of them in the pull-out couch watching movies until late). Not tonight, because it was a school night for big brother, but I did offered up a decent alternative. Deal. He gagged down the little piece of chicken while shoving 6 m&m's in his mouth and chased it down with the rest of his milk. Daddy and big brother came running in so happy - there were high-fives all over the kitchen. "What did you do to get him to eat it" my husband asked. "Go get my pillow and my alarm clock honey, I'm having a sleep over with our son tonight" I responded.