ice cream

One time at a resto, Sage pulled me down and whispered, "Daddy, ice cream please?"

I was puzzled because the Japanese resto had no ice cream on display whatsoever, until I realized that she had seen an ice cream store on our way in.

"We'll you some later, Sage," I told her.

"No, daddy, no," she protested. "Give me a coin."

"Daddy doesn't have any coins, but here's fifty bucks. Go with Ate Len," I told her.

"Ate Len, come!" she said imperiously, beckoning her nanny to follow as she walked out of the resto and into the mall - all 27 months old.

She came back later with a huge ice cream cone and no change whatsoever (she just had to select the expensive one!), stood next to me and said, "Here you go, daddy!"

"But Sage," I said, "That's for you. That's yours."

"No, daddy, no," she insisted, handing me the swiftly melting treat.

"Sage, you asked for ice cream, you got ice cream. You must eat it."

"No, daddy. Try it."

Gah. This "try it, try it" thing is deadly, I tell you.

And so Ate Len ended up enjoying a lovely scoop of yoghurt ice cream, while Sage looked around for some other thing to try.