My kids are now in the phase of wanting to shove food into your mouth. They like to feed you with whatever they’re eating, and with whatever you’re eating.

So just the other day at the dinner table, Becks was her usual fussy self. She didn’t want to finish her rice. She gagged looking at her veggies. She refused to clean up her chicken wings. All she wanted to do was to give me her unfinished food.

Me: No thank you, my dear. I want to eat my own food, and I want to feed myself.

She then looked at her father with those big round eyes, and asked, “Dada, I feed you your dinner, ok?”

Fatherkao: Ok, princess. You can feed me but I want to eat from my plate, not yours.

Just like that, she got away with not finishing her food. She started scooping rice and soup for her father and made him say “aah” everytime she was ready with a helping.

My eldest saw them having so much fun and asked if he could feed me my dinner. Being ravenously hungry, I declined his offer and told him to finish what’s on his plate. He proceeded to sulk for the longest time and tried to convince me to let him feed me, like how his sister was feeding fatherkao.

Me: No. My answer is no. You finish your food and stop copying your sister.

Ben: (starting to sob) But I want to feed you…

Fatherkao: Just let him do it. The next time he does it, you’ll be eighty years old, dear.

And just like that, he got away with not finishing his food. And I had the longest dinner of my life. I sat at the table and watched him scoop my dinner, bit by bit, shoving in mouthful by mouthful. That night, I realised that it ain’t such a big deal that they can’t finish whatever’s on their plate; but it is a big deal if I missed out this wave of TLC and have to wait fifty years for the next one.