My four-year old ate a vegetable frittata the other day.and after several pages of me reading my heart out ends
My husband and I met eyes across the table as she ate, but we didn't say a word about it. When she asked for seconds - seconds! - we served them quietly, and without ceremony.
But I'd be a liar if I didn't admit that later, in the kitchen, he and I quietly exchanged a high five.
"Who is that kid?" my husband whispered as our hands slapped.
"Shh," I said. "Let's not jinx it."