One of my vices is reading at the table. I've been doing it since I was a kid - newspapers, magazines, and the mail. It is one way I multi-task.
Colleen grudgingly tolerated this throughout our marriage until the kids came, upon which she laid down the law. NO READING AT THE TABLE.
The kids picked up on this and seldom miss an opportunity to reprimand me if I try to sneak a peak at something while sitting at the table. One time Marin went so far as to hide my mail.
Fast forward to this morning. Just Emmy and I at the table. Emmy eating cereal and me drumming my fingers in boredom. Colleen and Marin were in the next room doing something.
Emmy reaches over, touches my wrist, smiles sweetly and says "Daddy reading? It's OK. No tella Mama. Daddy reading." So I ponder this invitation, decide "what the hay", grab my mag and dig in. I'm not even through the first sentence when Emmy wheels in her chair and yells, at the top of her lungs "Mama Mama, Daddy reading at table."
Then she turns to look at me as if to say "How does it feel to be tricked by a two year old, you dope?"