"No, Brooklyn. Eat your dinner if you want dessert."
"But I'm not hungryyyyy!" she whined as if I was force feeding her liver and onions instead of asking her to eat the quarter of a hamburger I'd given her.
"If you're not hungry enough to eat dinner, then you're not hungry enough for ice cream," I said, full of brilliant mom wisdom.
"Fine!" Brooklyn huffed, crossing her arms over her chest to make sure I knew exactly what she thought of my tyrannical dinnertime rules.
A few minutes later, as I was cleaning up the kitchen, Brooklyn showed me her empty plate. "Now can I have ice cream?" she asked.
"Did you really eat your hamburger?" I inquired, a little doubtful. I mean there had been three whole bites on her plate and I was having a hard time believing she'd eaten that much.
"Yes!" She insisted she'd eaten her dinner so I went ahead and scooped out a little ice cream for her.
Fast forward seven hours. I went to the bathroom to brush my teeth, wash my face and get ready for bed. Then I spotted it. . .
"Why is there a hamburger in the bathroom? Brooklyn!" I shook my head. She's an evil genius, I tell ya! She managed to find a way to eat ice cream for dinner! Do you have any idea how many years I've been trying to do that?! Score another one for Brooklyn.