“C’est qui le patron?!” demands Papa, while Max down. Who’s the boss?

“Maman l’ pakon!”  he answers innocently.  Funny thing is that I’m certain he has no idea what patron means.

Doesn’t matter though, because he’s got the right answer.

He wanted to see his imaginary cat under the table.

“Cat!”

“Where’s your cat, Max?”

“La ba,” pointing under the table.  “Down!”

“No getting down until you finish your food.“  I’m not normally a stickler, but he’s developing a tendency to forego food for play.   We’d gone through this drill at lunch earlier in the day, also.

“Maman,” he tells me, as he feeds me a fry.  Then he tries to feed me another. And another.  I refuse them, and eventually, he picks up a handful waiting for me to open my palms and drops them in. He points to his now empty plate enthusiastically.

“I finish!  DOWN!”

Score for Max.

Heard around the dinner table:

Max tends to swallow his food after a couple of chews. 

“Max, chew it. I’ll count to 10, and you chew 10 times. 1-2-3-4…..did you just swallow that?”

“The meat a parti!” as he points, astonished,  inside his mouth.