‘No!’ accompanied by vigorous shaking of the head.
This means that combined with her heretofore favourite word ‘more!’ she can pretty much get mummy and daddy to meet her every whim.
At lunch today she pointed her imperious finger towards the middle of the table, “More!”
‘More bread?’ I asked
‘Cheese?’ I ventured
‘Water, maybe?’ At this point, I was beginning to feel like a kindly but slightly stupid Labrador.
‘Do you want olives?’
Now I was confused; olives usually result in her pulling theatrical grimaces, fishing the hideous object that mummy has tried to poison her with from her mouth and flinging it with contempt to the floor.
I waited as she sampled my offering.
The olive elicited its usual reaction.
Yet she kept pointing, ‘more!’
Then it dawned on me (silly mummy), crazypixie had had red grapes earlier that looked almost exactly like the offending olives.
I, like the aforementioned Labrador who has suddenly realised the true meaning of ‘Fetch’, leapt up with a grin, scampered to the fridge, retrieved the grapes and presented them to crazypixie who bestowed a smile on me as she happily began munching.
I reckon in another year or two she’ll have us fully trained.