Cake is Crack

My kid and cake don't get along.  Or maybe it's that they get along too well, like in a "I need a hit!  Someone hook me up before I lose it!" kind of way.

Ro's Daddy and I made the decision today that maybe we should just stay away from cake for now.  This, as a result of two days where cake has been available and madness has ensued.  Yesterday there was a plate of the stuff and, having decided she didn't need more sugar-soaked carbs, we let her know that we were all done with cake.

the sign for "all done"

Well, she sought out the plate and on her way to it I firmly told her that she wasn't to touch it, that we were all done with cake, etc.  Apparently, for Ro, this is on par with a big ol' slap in the face, or some other sort of personal attack.  The heaving sobs, giant tears and deep gasps for air started immediately and she ran past the plate (Yay! She listened!) and fell onto me, shouting something angrily, snotty and eternally wounded.  

 

Oh, my.  All I can think is, "Really?  It's just cake!  Get a grip!"  So I held her and commiserated with her upset for a bit and then, suddenly, it was over.  She was up and off to tromp around with her cousins.  

Oye vey. 

The same sort of thing happened today.  She had a few bites of cake and then her world ended when I told her we were through.  Epic meltdown.  

So that's the end of Ro+cake for awhile.  I'm not too bummed, it's not like cake holds any nutritional value.  Plus, that means no cake for me too, and my soft belly needs no cake.